


Blood in My Eyes

by Melodious329



Series: Blood in My Eyes [1]
Category: Angel: the Series RPF, CW Network RPF, Kane (Band), Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finds a man unconscious in his back yard.  He takes the man into his home, his life, and eventually his heart, but it turns out the man’s past, though forgotten, is not gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood in My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I neither own nor know any of the real person after whom these characters were created.

Steve opened his eyes that morning to a room filled with sunshine. After being on tour for the last several months, he was happy to wake up to his own room. Though he was awake, he lay for a while more stretching his limbs and just enjoying the feel of his own bed and sheets sliding over his bare skin, relishing waking up without an alarm, without having to hurry to go somewhere and do something.

 

Eventually though, his bladder forced him to get up. Scratching a hand through long, blonde, tangled hair, he made his way to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. He had put on only light blue boxers and was delighted to be in his own home so that he could do so. Hell, he half-considered walking around naked just because he could, but decided that nudity plus kitchen appliances equaled a bad idea.

 

He even enjoyed cooking breakfast for himself, the rhythm of it soothing in its routine. Just like any American, he appreciated greasy diner food, but it was something that lost its appeal quickly. He ate his home-cooked breakfast in silence. Normally he liked to listen to music, he was a musician after all, but after the tour, after being with other people twenty-four hours a day, listening to their music choices and their voices and then playing his own music night after night, he appreciated a little silence. At least he would for a little while.

 

It was the same after every tour. For a few days he would hole up in his house, ignore his telephone and soak up the solitude and the freedom of not having a thing to do or a place to go. He would read novels and the newspaper, he would watch the most inane things on tv, and generally turn off his brain.

 

Still these last couple of years, Steve couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing, someone. He liked having a break from the expectations of his friends and manager and fans, but still, he didn’t like being alone. He longed to wake up next to someone again, to make breakfast for two, to be able to be silent but together with another person.

 

Being a touring musician didn’t exactly make relationships easy, Steve had learned that a time or two. Sometimes he felt ridiculous, like he was a fairy tale princess waiting for her prince, like Goldilocks waiting for the one that was just right. And, really, having to compare his search for love to female fairy tale characters didn’t help.

 

After breakfast, he took a shower, grateful too for the privacy to masturbate without anyone wondering why he was in there so long and the requisite mocking that would then take place. He stood for a while simply letting the water run over his skin, pound down on his muscles, before his hand slipped slowly down his slick chest and belly to his impatient erection.

 

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, Steve reluctantly got dressed in a pair of shorts, his long hair still dripping water that slid down his bare back. He was headed outside to his back porch and he didn’t think that his neighbors would appreciate him being naked, plus the swing on said porch was wooden.

 

It was a beautiful spring day, sunny but without the sweltering heat of summer. He looked out at his small back yard and then beyond it, down a small incline to the beach. It wasn’t the pristine sandy beaches of LA, the sand here was coarse and rocky, but the ocean beyond was just as beautiful, more so for being isolated.

 

He sat on the porch swing with a book, The Magus by John Fowles, hearing only the creak of the wood beneath him, the sound of the waves, the call of seagulls. He supposed that he really should cut the grass and trim the hedges while he was just puttering around. There was a row of short hedges on either side delineating his property from his neighbors and it had been decided long ago that they were his responsibility. Steve couldn’t now recall how he had gotten stuck with them.

 

As he looked at the hedges to his left, he caught sight of something almost underneath them. Steve stood and moved towards it, realizing halfway there that it was a man. A man was sprawled out on his stomach far enough underneath the untrimmed branches of the hedges that Steve couldn’t help but think that the man was hiding.

 

The man was wearing jeans and a button-down, nice enough that he probably wasn’t homeless and both still wet, sand clinging to the cuffs of the jeans. And he had no shoes, only socks covering his feet. The man’s face was turned towards the house instead of the bushes and Steve could see, through the long strands of brown hair, that the man was injured. There was a bruise covering the man’s cheek and blood had dried where his lip had been split.

 

Steve ran the rest of the way to the hedge, suddenly freaked that the man was dead, but as he kneeled down he could see the rise and fall of the man’s broad back. Steve struggled to think what he should do coming across an unconscious man.

 

Lightly he shook the man’s shoulders, and called out loudly, “Are you ok? Hey, can you hear me?”

 

It took a moment for the man to come around, his eyes blinking dazedly before the man seemed to notice Steve and sluggishly tried to pull away, drawing himself back into the bushes.

 

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m just trying to help. Do you need an ambulance?”

 

Finally the man spoke for the first time, his voice a croak, dry and unused. “No. No, don’t call anyone.”

 

The man then clumsily tried to push himself up off his belly and, so Steve gripped the man’s nearest arm and shoulder as he tried to help. At the touch, the man flinched away, the bushes shaking in response, but Steve kept his grip and the man reluctantly accepted the help to get onto his knees.

 

“Were you going somewhere? Is there someone I can call to come get you?” Steve asked.

 

The man’s eyes were still dazed and he didn’t look directly at Steve but rather in Steve’s direction. “No, I’m fine. I’ll just…be on my way.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes. He wasn’t certain that the man was even following their conversation or that he even noticed that he had no shoes. In any case, Steve wasn’t about to let the guy just go wandering around in the street.

 

With a weary voice, Steve said, “No, you won’t. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

 

Dragging the man up to standing, Steve wrapped an arm around the man’s waist, surprised at the man’s bitten off whimper of pain. There were apparently more injuries than just the ones on the man’s face then.

 

Standing, Steve couldn’t help but to notice that the man was slightly shorter and smaller than himself, but the man was all compact muscle, and heavy. It was slow going as Steve maneuvered them both up the couple of stairs to the porch and then into the house. Steve was tempted to just set the man down on the couch, but seeing as how the man seemed half-unconscious still, he steered them towards the guest bedroom. Which meant going up a full flight of stairs.

 

Still the guy made it mostly under his own steam with nary a word of complaint. Sitting him down at the end of the bed though, Steve was really beginning to be concerned about how out of it the guy still seemed. He wondered whether he ought to call an ambulance despite the man’s protests.

 

“Tired,” the man mumbled. Steve nodded, hoping that all the man needed was to sleep it off a little. After all, the man had woken up easily enough.

 

“Ok, well, let’s take off these wet clothes.” Steve moved to kneel between the man’s legs.

 

The man nodded as obedient as a child, though he still didn’t make eye contact. His fingers were as clumsy as a child’s too and Steve had to take over the unbuttoning of his shirt. The man’s head was bent forward, almost resting on his chest with his dark hair falling forward as well, but he seemed to be watching Steve’s fingers as they made their way from the bottom of the shirt to the top. Steve had to tip the man’s face up with a hand under his chin to reach the buttons at his neck, and then Steve was pulling the shirt down the man’s muscled arms and off his wrists.

 

Steve went ahead and stripped off the tank that the man was wearing underneath, his fingers brushing the sun-warmed skin of the man’s torso. And then he was pulling at the man’s biceps, “Stand up.”

 

The man stood, quiet and still, as Steve unbuckled the large belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. Wet jeans were always a struggle and Steve ended up back on his knees pulling at the fabric before the jeans finally came off. Course the man’s black boxers went with them and Steve suddenly found his face way too close to the man’s soft dick nestled between powerful thighs. A show-er not a grow-er, Steve couldn’t help thinking.

 

The man didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable being naked, his head lolling back down against his chest, watching Steve with disinterest it seemed. Now faced with the man in all his glory, so to speak, Steve couldn’t help but admit that the man was attractive. A great muscled body, blue eyes with long lashes, long brown hair, though the eyes were at present distant and confused and the hair disheveled, the body bruised.

Steve checked the pockets of the man’s jeans for a wallet but found nothing, nothing to tell him who the man standing before him was. Standing back up, Steve helped the man to lie down on the bed with one hand to his waist and the other to a shoulder and then drew the sheets up over the man’s lower half. Even if the man was comfortable with being nude, Steve wasn’t.

 

With his head on the pillow, the man’s lashes began to flutter, probably fighting off sleep. The man’s torso had some bruises as Steve had suspected. Deep black bruising over the right side of the man’s back that continued over onto the man’s ribs on that side. Steve didn’t quite know what to do, but he knew that broken ribs could be very dangerous so he tried to gently run his hands over the bruises checking for breaks.

 

“They’re just bruised,” the man’s slurred voice startled Steve out of his concentration.

 

“How would you know?”

 

“I know what broken ribs feel like.”

 

Steve scowled but didn’t respond, didn’t object when the man’s eyelids closed and lay still in sleep. Steve was inclined to believe the man’s statement about broken ribs because the man was clearly no stranger to pain. He could tell by the scars scattered over the man’s body. A few were round like bullet wounds, some were short and thick like stab wounds, some were long, thin, and straight perhaps from a whip or switch, and still others were long and ragged like Steve didn’t know what. It presented an interesting picture.

 

Steve was starting to suspect that the man was dangerous. While it was obvious that the man had been on the wrong side of a beating a few times, Steve would bet money that a man with muscles like that had probably left his opponents with just as many scars. But Steve couldn’t just kick out an injured man, a man who needed care but had asked him not to call an ambulance.

 

Steve stood up from his seat on the bed. He didn’t really have any weapons, certainly didn’t own a gun or a taser or even pepper spray. Steve went into the downstairs closet and got a baseball bat. It wasn’t even an aluminum bat, it was wooden, but it would still do some damage if necessary. Steve took it back upstairs with him and sat down in the comfy chair next to the bed and watched the man sleep.

 

**************************

Waking up in the chair some time later, Steve had to admit that the plan would have been better if he hadn’t fallen asleep. Particularly because the man was already awake, his face turned toward Steve on the pillow, cornflower blue eyes brilliant in the sun coming in from the window were clearer and staring at Steve. If the man had noticed the bat and had figured out what it was for, he didn’t show it.

 

Steve scrubbed his hands over his face before getting up and going to sit on the bed beside the man again, abandoning any pretense of protecting himself. “Hey,” Steve paused to clear the sleep out of his throat. “How are you feeling?”

 

The man didn’t answer simply looked for the first time into Steve’s eyes before the man’s eyes skittered away to dart around the room. Steve tried again. “What’s your name?”

 

The man’s expression turned to confused, his brows drawn together, his full lips pursed. Steve figured that he shouldn’t be finding it as adorable as he did. Finally the man spoke, “C-christian Kane.”

 

Steve focused more on the frog-like sound of the man’s voice instead of the man’s name initially. “You need some water?”

 

The man nodded, his eyes drifting again to Steve’s face. Steve hopped up, practically running down the stairs to the kitchen, hurrying to return with a green plastic cup of water.

 

The man struggled into a sitting position against the headboard, but didn’t meet Steve’s eye again as the cup was handed over, the man’s attention only on the water that he greedily gulped down, emptying the cup in seconds.

 

Steve sat once again on the side of the bed facing the man, waiting until the water was gone to speak again. “Christian Kane, huh? Well, I’m Steve. How did you end up in my bushes?”

 

Again that confused expression. “D-don’t ‘member.” The man’s hand drifted probably without his knowledge to rub at the back of his head. Steve’s hand instinctually followed. The man, Christian, acquiesced, dropped his own hand and then dropped his head so that Steve could reach easier. Steve found a good-sized goose egg on the back of the man’s head.

 

Wincing in sympathy for the man as he pulled his hand back, Steve said again, “I really think that you should go to the hospital. You’ve obviously been knocked on the head hard enough to scramble your brains a little.”

 

Steve was trying to be funny, but Christian didn’t seem amused as he said again, this time more desperately, “No. I was…hiding, I just don’t remember…” Christian trailed off, staring at the sheet covering his lap, obviously frustrated by his confusion before continuing. “But I’ll go…somewhere. You don’t have to worry about me.”

 

Extending a hand to place on the man’s forearm and ignoring the seemingly instinctive flinch, Steve said softly, “Nonsense, if you don’t have anywhere to go, no one to take care of you, you can’t go. Maybe a shower and some food will straighten you out a little.”

 

Christian’s blue eyes lifted to look into Steve’s face again, seeming suspicious before looking away again, but he didn’t say anything. Steve noticed then how the man was gripping the plastic cup as if it would be stolen away, occasionally stopping his perusal of his surroundings to look in it as if more water would magically appear.

 

“Would you like some more water?”

 

Christian looked almost ashamed as he nodded, hesitantly releasing the cup when Steve reached for it. Steve didn’t really understand why, so he just quickly went downstairs again.

 

When Steve got back to the guest room, Christian was no longer sitting on the bed. Christ, he’s trying to kill me, Steve thought. The man was standing by the window, still without a stitch of clothing on. Steve’s eyes were drawn down from the man’s broad shoulders to the muscled back to the perfectly rounded ass. The sunlight seemed to cause the man to glow, bringing out the golden tones to his skin and hair.

 

It took Steve a moment of staring to notice anything else, to notice that Christian was acting like a wounded animal, shifting restlessly at his imposed inactivity, switching his attention time and again from his comfortable cage to the freedom of the world outside. Finally Steve stepped forward, announcing himself with a word, “Here.”

 

Steve also noticed that though Christian’s attention immediately went to the cup in Steve’s hand, the man did not reach for it until Steve offered it. Then he was gulping it down again, as if he couldn’t save any for later, as if he might not be getting any more. Steve wondered again what kind of man Christian was, or had been.

 

Steve was still in shock at the fact that the man had amnesia. That was the kind of thing that happened on tv, not in real life. Of course, most people that Steve knew didn’t get hit in the back of the head with who knew what. Besides, wasn’t amnesia mostly temporary? Still, the man could be a criminal, he could be a CIA spy or a Martian for all that Steve knew.

 

But at that moment, Christian didn’t seem dangerous, at least not to Steve. He seemed hurt, confused, a little frightened, and most of all, he was alone and in need of help.

 

Steve reached out a hand to the man’s shoulder, his motion slow as Christian’s eyes tracked him warily. “Hey, come with me and you can take a shower, ok? And you can borrow some of my clothes, they’ll be a little big but not too bad.”

 

Christian didn’t pull away from the hand, so Steve extended his arm over Christian’s shoulders, leading the other man into the hallway to the bathroom. He couldn’t help noticing the feel of the man’s skin under his bare arm, it was surprisingly soft considering the scars. In the bathroom, Steve didn’t know what the other man knew so he drew his arm away and turned on the shower.

 

“Left for hot, right for cold,” he said inanely. “Let me get you some clothes.”

 

Steve walked into his own bedroom, opening a drawer and taking out a pair of boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt. He went ahead and put a t-shirt on himself, too, feeling suddenly self-conscious of his own half-dressed state. Christian had already stepped into the shower when he got back to the bathroom but it wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen the man naked. Still, he diverted his eyes from the foggy but not opaque shower door. He really didn’t need the image of water cascading over those muscles in his mind, not that his imagination wasn’t already supplying it.

 

He closed the lid of the toilet and set the clothes down there. He also put a hairbrush out on the counter before leaving the room, this time closing the door after himself. He headed down to the kitchen then, it was early afternoon and he figured lunch was a good plan.

 

In the kitchen Steve was suddenly struck with the thought that there might be things that Christian couldn’t eat. Christian wouldn’t even know if he had any dietary restrictions. In the end, Steve just made hot turkey and cheese sandwiches, praying that they wouldn’t be making a trip to the Emergency Department today for food allergies.

 

He had set two plates with sandwiches on the table, along with a glass of water for himself. Steve wondered if he shouldn’t go get the man since Christian hadn’t shown a lot of initiative, so far just going along with where Steve moved him.

 

But a moment later, the man appeared in the doorway, blue eyes seemingly cataloguing everything about Steve’s house. Christian’s long brown hair was down, curling a little as it dripped water onto the t-shirt he wore. Steve’s jeans were loose on the man, hanging low on his hips and Steve cursed himself for not giving the man a belt so he wouldn’t spend the day thinking how hot that was. With effort, Steve kept his seat, deciding to try and get the man to respond to him more rather than Steve just ushering Christian to the seat.

 

“You hungry? I hope you don’t have any food allergies. You didn’t remember anything in the shower, did you?”

 

The man looked Steve in the eye then for a second, still clutching that green cup. He seemed overwhelmed with all of what Steve had just said, but after a moment, he sat at the table and then spoke.

 

“No, I don’t remember. Sorry.”

 

Without the frogginess, the man’s voice was actually pleasant, more than pleasant if Steve were to let his libido have its say, low and warm, a soft growl almost. It also had an accent to it, though whether the accent was southern or just country, he didn’t know enough to tell. Still it was a clue.

 

Steve stood then, getting the water pitcher out of the refrigerator. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

 

Christian’s eyes flicked from Steve’s face to the pitcher before he held out the cup for Steve to fill. Steve was beginning to think that the man had latched onto the cup as a kind of security blanket. It made sense, he supposed, water was an important commodity and the cup represented access to water. As long as Christian held onto the cup, maybe he thought that he had a chance of getting more.

 

The man didn’t eat, didn’t put down the cup until Steve had picked up his own sandwich which at this point didn’t even surprise Steve. He simply tried to be casual and assumed that Christian would follow his lead. Steve wondered if all amnesiacs were this hesitant, this scared. It would certainly be frightening. Christian didn’t know Steve, didn’t know himself.

 

Still, Steve didn’t think that amnesia was the explanation for all of Christian’s behavior. Even now as he ate, Christian was hovering over his plate as if he were afraid it would be taken away, his right hand holding the sandwich, his left still holding the cup. Surely Christian’s personality hadn’t been erased, tabula rasa. After all, the neural pathways were already formed, predisposing Christian to act and think in certain learned ways.

 

Not that Steve thought that Christian would normally act exactly like this. Christian had forgotten why he acted in the ways that he did, he had forgotten how to cover up his nervousness and suspicion probably. Maybe under normal circumstances Christian would cover with aggression, with charm, with sarcasm all the while being cautious and aware of his surroundings. Steve hoped that as Christian got comfortable, more facets of his personality would come out.

 

Steve realized then that he was already imagining the man staying with him for a while. Amnesia, even if temporary, probably did not resolve itself over night and, really, Steve had no idea where else this man could go. He had only known Christian for a few hours and already, Steve cared about what happened to him. Steve had already been drawn in by the mystery of the man. Why was he injured? How had he gotten here? Why did he act like a junkyard dog, wary of human contact, protective of basic necessities like food and water?

 

Christian finished his sandwich more slowly than Steve would have thought, slower than just the man being careful of the split in his lip. He wondered if the bump on the head was giving the man nausea.

 

“Do you have a headache?”

 

Christian’s hand again went to the back of his head, before answering. “Yeah. Not a big surprise, I guess.” He then made an expression that Steve thought might have been meant to be a self-deprecating smile, but looked most like a grimace, the expression probably pulling at his lip and bruised cheek.

 

Still Steve took Christian’s attempt at wit as a good sign. “Let me get you some Tylenol.”

 

He had to go back upstairs to get some, but Christian was waiting patiently at the table when he returned. Christian accepted the two pills that Steve placed in his palm, but then simply stared at them.

 

“It’s only Tylenol. It’ll help. And it’s safe.”

 

Christian’s eyes met Steve’s and Steve felt weighed and measured by that gaze, but when Christian swallowed the pills, Steve felt proud, felt like Christian had taken an important step toward trusting him.

 

Steve decided to just go on with his plans for the day, such as those plans were. “You want to watch some tv?”

 

Christian looked him in the eye again and nodded. Then Christian stood, grabbing for the cup to take with him.

 

“Need any more water?”

 

The man actually looked into the cup like a child to see, before shaking his head and following Steve into the living room. They sat on separate ends of the couch, like men often do. Christian only hesitated a second before he put the cup down on the coffee table.

 

“I don’t suppose that you remember anything you like to watch?”

 

Christian looked back at him, lending credence to the idea that the man had resolved to trust Steve more. At the shake of the man’s head, Steve sighed. “Didn’t think so. Guess we’ll just see what’s on.”

 

Flipping through pretty much every channel that he got, Steve finally decided on a marathon of Top Chef, a reality cooking competition. It seemed interesting enough and the plan was to watch something inane and mindless.

 

“This ok?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Steve certainly hadn’t expected Christian to object to the program, but Steve asked because he wanted to keep the man engaged,  
talking, participating rather than just floating through the house like a ghost. Steve kind of wanted the man to be a friend, even though he couldn’t learn anything of the man’s past.

 

The musician couldn’t keep himself from commenting on the insane challenges, the ridiculous catfights, and the sometimes terrible dishes that were made by the contestants. Christian didn’t comment, but Steve caught the other man smiling, real and genuine.

 

After about an hour and a half though, Christian was leaning his head back against the couch, his eyes slipping closed only for the man to jerk back awake. Steve sighed at the man and got up to grab a cushion from the nearby recliner. He set the pillow on the couch between them and patted it.

 

“How about you lay down? You’re falling asleep there and I don’t think that you want a crick in your neck to add to your current problems.”

 

Christian looked at the pillow suspiciously; Steve didn’t have a clue why. Not like the pillow was gonna be out to get him. But the pillow would put him awfully close to Steve.

 

After a moment’s consideration, Christian did lay down on his side, his bare feet sliding up onto the couch and his knees tucking in so that he would fit. He shifted for a while, pushed his hair out of the way, but eventually settled down, his eyes on the show for a moment more.

 

Steve realized then how close the man’s head was to his lap. Maybe he should have gone ahead and put the pillow on his thighs, given the man a bit more room to stretch out, but Steve knew that that wouldn’t have been a good idea. Christian was still too skittish.

 

He did, however, gently run his hand through the brown hair. He told himself that it was because he wanted Christian to get used to him, to get used to physical contact, but it was really because he wanted to. Steve wanted to touch that softly curling hair and he wanted Christian to get used to his physical contact.

 

Steve could see the man tense up, every line of Christian’s body becoming stiff at the contact. But the man didn’t move away, didn’t stop Steve’s hand, didn’t say anything, so Steve continued his tender ministrations, even rubbing a thumb in circles over Christian’s temple.

 

It took a while, but about half an hour later, the man was asleep, a slight wheezing noise to his breathing that Steve thought was from the bruises on his ribs.

 

*******************

Top Chef was actually a pretty entertaining show in a mindless way which was perfect and so Steve was still watching it when Christian stirred again, his head moving slightly underneath Steve’s fingers as he drew in a deep breath. Other than that though, the man didn’t move. Steve figured that Christian had had a pretty tough day and needed to laze around on the couch even more than Steve himself did.

 

Christian did snuggle a little more into the couch, resituating himself. And Steve really needed to stop thinking of the man as adorable because eventually the sentiment was going to come out of his mouth and he figured that the man wouldn’t like being described that way. Just a hunch Steve had based on the scars.

 

Steve didn’t stop the motion of his hand on the dark head, but he did start commenting aloud again. He was pretty sure he even heard Christian chuckle a little. It could have been a cough, but Steve was gonna choose to believe that it was a laugh.

 

Eventually, Christian did sit up, rolling his shoulders and massaging his neck a little.

 

“Headache still there?”

 

The man’s forehead was creased in pain so the answer was apparent, even before the man spoke. “Yeah.”

 

“You must be pretty stiff and sore too. I’ll go get you some more Tylenol, but I don’t think there’s much to be done about the bruises.”

 

“I’ll be fine.” And then the man was looking into Steve’s eyes again, Christian’s eyes intent. “But thanks.”

 

Steve shrugged, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his face at the man’s words. He turned and made his way up the stairs. While he was up there he went ahead and grabbed the man’s clothes, bringing them and his laundry from the tour down with the Tylenol.

 

“Here. Thought I’d go ahead and wash your jeans and tank with my stuff. I don’t know about the button-down, it might be unsalvageable.”

 

Christian took the pills from Steve’s palm this time, quickly grabbing his cup to swallow them down. “You need help?”

 

“No, not really.” Steve replied offhand, but he immediately noticed how Christian looked down at the couch, his face seeming disappointed, so Steve changed tactics. “But if you want…?”

 

Christian’s head popped up, his blues eyes oddly hopeful, and he nodded before getting up off the couch to follow Steve to the laundry room. It really was a one person job, but after Steve put in the detergent and let the washer fill up with a little water, he let Christian put the clothes in.

 

“Ok, you wanna stick the clothes in?”

 

Christian immediately complied. Steve wondered whether the man had been so intent to help because he felt like a burden or because he simply wanted to be near Steve. He was Christian’s only contact right now and it would make sense for the other man to fixate on him. He couldn’t help hoping there was more to it than that though. Steve wanted Christian to like him, to enjoy his company for more than because he had no other choice.

 

Steve admitted that these circumstances probably weren’t ideal for forming any sort of lasting relationship, friendship or otherwise, since Christian was so dependent on him. He wanted to be wanted more than he was needed and, at the moment, there really was no way to separate the two.

 

He didn’t like the direction his thoughts had taken, particularly when Christian closed the lid of the washer and then looked at Steve like he was proud of himself, like puppies look at their masters when they complete a trick on command.

 

Reaching out a hand to squeeze Christian’s shoulder, Steve smiled, saying, “Thanks. Well, soon at the very least, you’ll have some jeans that aren’t about to fall off.”

 

His words didn’t get quite the reaction that Steve was hoping for as Christian seemed embarrassed as he looked down at the jeans he was wearing.

 

“No, it’s not bad. They’re just a little loose.” Steve said, trying to fix the situation and, on impulse, stuck two fingers into the waistband of the jeans Christian wore and tugged.

 

Christian’s face still seemed bashful as well as surprised as he jerked his head up to look at Steve. Steve could have kicked his own ass for just making things worse.

 

“Sorry,” Christian choked out. “Thanks for the clothes.”

 

Steve sighed. “You don’t have to thank me. You needed them and I was happy to help. Ok?” he asked earnestly.

 

Christian nodded, but still seemed ashamed, keeping his face down, letting his long hair shield him.

 

“Let’s go see who else got kicked off.”

 

They sat back on separate ends of the couch. Steve considered it a bad sign that Christian picked his green cup back up, holding it close again. At this point, Steve felt justified in comparing this situation to being in a minefield with no way to identify the mines. He figured he had found the mine when it blew up in his face.

 

So he tried something else. “That guy should definitely get kicked off next. Look at him, he’s completely messing up the team dynamic. Don’t you think?”

 

Christian gave him a hesitant glance before turning his attention back to the tv. “I guess, but do chefs really need to work together?”

 

Steve thought about that. “Well, not if you’re an executive chef someplace, but still, if you can’t work with others at all, it’s gonna be real difficult for the chefs to work under you. I worked as a sous chef under a guy like that once, it was horrible. He just made the environment impossible for everyone.”

 

“But it was your job to do what he said.”

 

“Well, yeah, but he didn’t have to be such a dick.”

 

Christian just shrugged. The man’s response made him wonder if Christian was perhaps used to taking orders. An interesting revelation, but Steve didn’t know whether he had managed to make the situation worse or better. Christian was still holding onto that cup so he tried again.

 

“Ok, but her. She’s been up for elimination a couple of times. Is it worse to play it safe or to constantly make crap because you were too ambitious?”

 

“I don’t know.” Christian leaned over to put the cup down, obviously getting comfortable in the conversation, and Steve gave a silent cheer. “Which is easier to learn to fix?”

 

“Hmm, I guess it depends on whether you’re playing it safe because you are uninventive and if you’re messing up the ambitious dish because your taste sucks. You can’t teach a person to be imaginative and you can’t give a person taste if they have none. In this girl’s case, I think she doesn’t have the skill to pull it off, which she could learn but probably not on this show.”

 

Christian sort of hummed, whether in agreement or simply in thought, Steve had no idea. But then Christian turned his body towards Steve, only a little, only slightly, but Steve saw it.

 

Steve didn’t say anything when he got up to put the clothes in the dryer, but when he came back, Christian didn’t move or pick the cup back up. He figured he was safe.

 

After another hour had passed and another contestant was kicked off, Steve said, “I think it’s time I did a little cooking for us. You hungry?”

 

Christian’s blue eyes were wide open as they stared at him as he stood. “I can help. I can cook. I mean, I think that I can help…do some things.” Christian looked down sheepishly as he started to stumble over his words.

 

“Chop some vegetables for me then?”

 

Christian practically fell in his haste to get off the couch and follow. Steve thought that he understood, a little. The man was all tightly coiled strength, humming with energy despite his injuries. And Steve thought again that maybe Christian wanted to be useful or maybe he wanted to be near Steve.

 

Steve gestured for Christian to sit and then rummaged around in the refrigerator for the ingredients to make a simple stir fry. When he turned back, he noticed that the cup was there on the table, and it was empty. Christian’s eyes darted from the cup to Steve a couple times before Steve realized that Christian probably wanted more water, but wouldn’t ask for it.

 

He put the vegetables and a cutting board on the table and then went back for the water pitcher. Christian’s face seemed to soften in gratitude as Steve refilled the cup. It was another interesting puzzle piece that Christian fell all over himself offering to help, but couldn’t ask for a simple glass of water, as if to ask for something as necessary as water would hurt his pride too much, akin to begging for his life. Steve had to wonder if there had been a time when water had been withheld from Christian.

 

He gave the man a knife, watching Christian slice vegetables for a moment. Christian was pretty good. Definitely not a man who wasn’t used to cooking at least for himself, it was just another piece of the picture for Steve even though he couldn’t yet say what the picture was of.

 

They cooked mostly in silence, Christian watching avidly as Steve stir fried the chicken and then added the vegetables and sauce. Steve wanted to laugh as he served up two plates and they began to eat. This wasn’t exactly what he had been thinking of this morning when he had thought about being able to be with another person in silence. There were too many unanswered questions in this silence.

 

On the other hand, there was also anticipation, that spark of interest, of potential. Steve had a feeling that even if Christian had his memories, even if they had known each other for years, that Christian was the type of person whose thoughts you could never guess, who would constantly surprise.

 

There was something to be said for that. Steve admitted that he was a routine kind of guy. Just this morning he had gone through his normal routine for the days after a tour. But he loved the excitement that came with the tour, the unexpected things that popped up even the problems. And he thought that as long as he could lie down with Christian at night, curl around that body finally at rest, then he would be happy for a little excitement.

 

Christian ate more and ate faster this time, though he still hunched over his plate, the cup pulled close. After they finished, Steve cleaned up a little, allowed Christian to put the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher.

 

“Want to find out who wins?”

 

They ended up watching the rest of the marathon, all the way to the end, though the winner was pretty obvious. They folded the laundry and talked some more, about who was being a drama queen, the difficulty of the challenges, and the fairness of the judging. By the end though, Steve wasn’t surprised to find that he was pretty sleepy. He was more surprised to see Christian’s eyes closing again, since the man had napped a couple of times, but Steve figured that sleep was when the body recovered. Wasn’t it?

 

“You sleepy? Because I’m ready to go to bed.”

 

“Yeah,” was the compliant reply.

 

Steve led the way up the stairs. He scrounged in one of the bathroom’s drawers for a spare toothbrush and then they brushed their teeth, the plastic cup still full of water, safe on the counter. Christian kept glancing at him as they did so but Steve couldn’t decipher the message in the glances.

 

He led Christian back to the guest bedroom. Standing in the doorway after ushering Christian inside, he said, “If you need anything, feel free to get it or get me. I’m in the last room down past the bathroom.”

 

Christian looked around the room like he had never seen it, which Steve thought was odd and his gaze as he looked back at Steve was unreadable. He was back to clutching the cup tightly to his chest.

 

Steve didn’t know what to do to make things more comfortable for Christian, so he reluctantly left the room. But as he entered his own bedroom, he found that the space felt odd, empty. After an entire day with Christian literally glued to his side, he felt like the solitude was a physical entity around him. He undressed, stripping off even his boxers because it was his routine. He enjoyed being home and thus able to sleep nude, particularly in the warmth of California’s spring, but now it conjured the image of Christian standing nude at the window earlier.

 

He couldn’t go to sleep, and he doubted it was because he had had an unexpected nap earlier. It was the silence. Christian hadn’t talked much, but his presence had been like white noise, filling Steve’s awareness. Now he simply lay there in bed. He rubbed a hand along the flat planes of his belly, considering jerking off in hopes of relaxing, but Steve knew that as soon as his hand was on his dick, Christian would burst in needing something. And he wouldn’t lock the door against a man in such a fragile state.

 

Steve flopped over onto his stomach, hoping that he could just ignore the problem, but even the feel of sheets sliding across his bare ass just added to his frustration. But then he heard a noise. It was an innocuous creak, could easily have just been the house settling, but Steve got up anyway. Maybe he was just bored, but he pulled on a pair of boxers and went out into the hallway.

 

The first thing he did was check in the guest bedroom. As he had figured, the other man was not in the bed, soundly sleeping. So Steve turned towards the stairs, slowly creeping downstairs.

 

The lights weren’t on, but there was just enough light from the streetlights and the moon coming through the windows in the living room to see Christian’s form. The man hadn’t even gotten undressed. He was simply investigating the room, looking over all the knick-knacks that Steve had collected over the years from places he had been, people he had known. Christian studied each object so intently, like he was searching for the pieces to Steve’s puzzle.

 

“Christian,” Steve called out.

 

The man turned abruptly, bending his knees as he dropped into a crouch, his hands coming up to shield himself. While not much a fighter himself, Steve certainly wasn’t surprised that that was exactly what the man looked like when startled.

 

“It’s just me, Steve.” Steve didn’t know why he felt the need to include his name, but just to be on the safe side.

 

Christian dropped his hands and bent to pick up the cup that he had dropped. Steve wondered whether there had been any water inside.

 

Cautiously, Steve approached the other man. “What are you doing awake still?”

 

Christian looked cornered, freaked and Steve didn’t know what to do about it. “Are you ok? You couldn’t sleep?”

 

“I-I couldn’t…I mean, I didn’t…”

 

Steve moved closer as Christian again couldn’t find the words to express himself. He held his hands up so that Christian could see them before they made contact with Christian’s arms.

 

“Come here. You had nightmares, or you were restless? You slept fine earlier.”

 

A guilty look suffused the man’s features and he darted a look at Steve’s face as if he thought that Steve would be angry with him. One of Steve’s hands began to stroke Christian’s back without Steve really deciding to do so.

 

“Do you want to sleep in my room?”

 

It had sounded like a silly suggestion coming out of his mouth, but Steve could clearly see the small hope on Christian’s face when he said it.

 

“I don’t want to bother you. I don’t even know why I couldn’t…it’s just that…”

 

“It’s not a problem. Come on.”

 

Steve led the man back to the stairs with the hand that was still on Christian’s back. He thought that he understood. Christian by himself in that empty room, had nothing but the vast emptiness of his past to think about. He couldn’t remember whether he had anything to be scared of, didn’t remember whether there were things to be scared of in the dark or in his own past, his own mind. But Steve he knew, Steve was safe, kind of like the cup.

 

“Do you want more water?”

 

Steve thought that he saw the man clutch the cup even tighter to his chest even as he nodded, yes. Christian was still distraught and even Christian probably didn’t know why.

 

They made a detour to the kitchen. Steve turned on the light which momentarily blinded the two men and then he grabbed the pitcher. He had to pour the water into the cup while Christian still clutched it to his chest, but then they made their way up to Steve’s room.

 

Steve ushered Christian inside and then shut the door behind them. When he turned back around, Christian was still standing where he had left the man. Steve put his hand back on the man’s back and pushed him toward the side of the bed with the bedside table next to it.

 

“You can put the cup down there and then get undressed.”

 

Steve demonstrated by climbing into the bed, keeping his boxers on. There was no way he was going to lie in this bed all night next to that man’s body without boxers on. He absurdly wished for a bundling board.

 

But luck was definitely not on his side which became apparent as Christian watched him slide under the covers before he set down the cup. Then Christian got undressed, completely undressed. Steve managed to hold in his whimpers of distress.

 

Christian pulled back the covers, climbing in and settling way too close to Steve. Even in the dark, Steve could see Christian’s eyes searching his face. And then Christian kissed him.

 

It was a good kiss, though hesitant. Christian’s lips gently slid between Steve’s own as Christian kissed Steve’s top lip. And, God, did Steve just want to kiss back, to thrust his tongue into the other man’s minty mouth, to crush Christian to him and run his hands all over Christian’s body. It took a monumental effort to place his hands on that sculpted chest and push the man away.

 

Steve figured that really, he should have been expecting the kiss, but he hadn’t. He didn’t even want to look into Christian’s face to see what emotions would be there, so he began explaining immediately, his hands absently petting Christian’s features.

 

“It’s ok. It’s fine. It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. It was a good kiss. But you don’t even know who you are. I don’t want you doing this just because I helped you out today.”

 

Steve felt Christian’s mouth open with his roving hands more than saw it and he quickly kept talking. “No, I can’t, Christian. I would always think that you had done it because you were grateful and I don’t want you to feel indebted to me. We’ve only known each other a day, you’ve only known you a day…just give it time. Ok?”

 

It was a long, stressful moment before Christian nodded. Steve let out a breath he hadn’t even known that he was holding.

 

“Ok. Just go to sleep. I’m here and in the morning, we’ll watch some more tv or something. Sound good?”

 

Again Christian nodded. Steve’s hands stroked over the man’s face and hair a few more times, before he settled down himself. They were still too close, both on their sides facing one another, but Steve didn’t dare ask Christian to move away. He had invited the other man in here knowing that Christian needed comfort and he wouldn’t deny Christian that just because Steve couldn’t control his own libido.

 

He took a great big breath, held it and then let it out in a long exhale. In the end, it didn’t take as long for Steve to fall asleep as he had thought.

***************************

Steve woke on his back. Opening his eyes, he was pleased to see his own ceiling, bright with sunlight, pleased as he often was after a tour that he hadn’t woken to stare up at the inside of a bus or a hotel room ceiling with water stains on it. But this morning it was different because he could clearly hear another person breathing.

 

Steve frowned as he listened, hearing not the usual deep breaths of a person asleep, but the shorter wheezing breaths that he had noted earlier when Christian had napped on the couch. He turned over on his side to face his sleeping companion, finding Christian on his back, seemingly sleeping peacefully despite that he wasn’t taking full breaths.

 

Steve felt terrible that the man was in pain, figured that what Christian really needed was something stronger than Tylenol, but Steve knew that there wasn’t anything he could do if Christian didn’t want to go to a doctor. Carefully, Steve sat up and then moved off of the bed, breathing out in relief when Christian slept on.

 

He didn’t think of it as sneaking away, avoiding the kiss from the night before, no, Steve just thought of his actions as prudent. Lying there watching the man sleep wasn’t going to help Steve’s tenuous control over his libido and waking up cuddled together wasn’t going to help Christian understand that he really didn’t have to repay Steve’s kindness with sex.

 

With a glance to make sure that Christian was sleeping, he slipped out of the boxers he was wearing, throwing them toward the hamper and pulled on a pair of the clean pajama pants. Steve couldn’t even say why he felt suddenly self-conscious in front of Christian. He had never been shy about showing his body and didn’t particularly want to examine why it might matter what Christian thought of him. He went ahead and grabbed a pair of fresh boxers for his guest. The clothes Christian had worn yesterday were in a little pile beside the bed and Steve put the boxers on top.

 

Padding his way downstairs after a pit stop in the bathroom, Steve had the idea to make pancakes with the blueberries that he had picked up. Everyone liked pancakes, right? And who would be allergic to blueberries? He mixed up the batter, but before he put any in the pan, he began to wonder whether he would have to go wake Christian.

 

The smell must have gotten the man up though, as Christian wandered into the kitchen as Steve was sliding the third pancake onto the serving plate. Steve turned to see that Christian had the same idea that he had had, the man’s chest bare except for bruises. Christian had put on the clean boxers as Steve could see them peeking out of the waistband of the jeans that Christian wore.

 

Christian was wearing Steve’s jeans again, a sight that caused Steve’s breath to catch in his throat. He couldn’t help thinking about how easy it would be to slide his hand down the front of those loose jeans, or the back, for that matter. Tightly, Steve smiled and then turned back to the pancakes.

 

“Have a seat. Hope you like pancakes, well, I hope you’re not allergic to blueberry pancakes, really…”

 

Steve heard the scrape of the chair as Christian sat down. He had already placed plates, silverware, napkins, butter and syrup on the table, so when the pancake was done, Steve simply spun and slid it directly on the plate in front of Christian.

 

Christian smiled up at him, but as the man’s gaze shifted to the plate, Christian stilled, his body going rigid as he sucked in a surprised gasp of air. Horrified that that the man really was allergic, Steve hastily threw the pan down on the stove top and kneeled next to Christian.

 

“Christian?! Are you ok? Is it the pancakes…?”

 

Steve’s hand was already moving to take the plate away when Christian came out of his stupor and grabbed Steve’s wrist.

 

“No, it’s ok.” Christian’s voice was slightly breathless but also sounded…amused. “It’s…I’ve just…I’ve had blueberry pancakes before.”

 

Steve kept very still, Christian’s hand still firm around his wrist as he let the other man gather his thoughts.

 

“My mom, I guess, I can’t remember her face, but she made them. She made blueberry pancakes for me.”

 

Christian’s lips frowned, his forehead scrunching with thought, “I can’t remember anything else…”

 

Steve let out a breath that he hadn’t meant to hold. He felt absurdly relieved that Christian hadn’t remembered everything. He was glad that apparently Christian’s memories would come back, he just wasn’t ready yet. Steve thought it was a little like finding a cat wearing a collar in your backyard. You take it in and give it food and shelter and let it sit in your lap. You know you’ll have to give it back, but you can’t help falling in love with it anyway, it’s adorable.

 

Steve forced his hand to release the plate, twisting it to grasp Christian’s hand that had been gripping him. “Well, that’s great. See, your memories will come back.”

 

Christian looked down on him with a small smile, but there was definitely hope and gratitude shining out of blue eyes. For a moment, all that Steve wanted to do was plant a sweet kiss on those upturned full lips, but he restrained himself. He gave Christian’s hand one last squeeze before he stood instead, tucking his hair behind his ears nervously. Then he turned back around and made another couple of pancakes before putting the serving plate on the table between them.

 

“Do you want some coffee?”

 

Christian had been busily eating his first pancake, seeming more relaxed as he did so but he looked up at Steve’s question. Steve noticed the man’s gaze shifted to his cup of water before he answered.

 

“Sure.”

 

Steve smiled, it was a simple question, but for whatever reason he felt like it was a small victory, a tiny step away from Christian’s dependence on the cup. Steve put a mug down in front of the man, moving the milk and sugar nearer to Christian.

 

Christian was busy tasting the coffee and adding a little sugar, so his eyes weren’t on Steve as he pulled down a blue plastic cup and filled it with water. Moving quickly, Steve grabbed the green cup and replaced it with the blue one. Acting as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary, Steve put the green cup in the washer.

 

But Steve’s eyes did catalogue the shocked expression on Christian’s face as he stared at the new cup, the bruise on his cheek making the man look completely vulnerable. Then the man was moving the blue cup closer to his plate completely forgetting about the coffee. After another moment, Christian was drinking a sip of water from the cup, as if to make sure that the water was the same. Before Steve knew it he was basically staring at the man like he would at an exhibit at the zoo.

 

Shaking himself, Steve took his own seat, drinking his own coffee and eating his pancakes as casually as possible. Christian seemed to decide that the blue cup was ok and so he went back to his pancakes and coffee as well.

 

“Is your headache better?” Steve asked.

 

Christian rubbed his hand on the back of his head again before answering. “Yeah, actually it is.”

 

“The bruises still look nasty, how do they feel?”

 

Christian shrugged. “Like bruises.”

 

Steve let it go at that. They ate their breakfast, rinsed and put the plates in the dishwasher and then Steve turned it on. Christian had drunk the coffee, but it was the blue cup of water that he brought with him as they went back into the living room.

 

“So I figured we could hang out on the back porch, read some books I’ve got?”

 

Steve phrased it as a question and Christian quickly agreed. Putting down his coffee cup on the coffee table, he looked over the titles on the nearby bookshelf. He had no idea what type of things that Christian would read, and neither did Christian, but he did the best he could, not wanting to overwhelm Christian with too many choices.

 

“Ok, you can read In Cold Blood which is about a murder or you can read War of the Worlds which is about aliens invading London.” Steve held up the two choices as if Christian would be better able to decide if he could see the plain covers of the books.

 

“Ummm, the one about the murder.”

 

Steve handed Christian that book and grabbed the book that he had intended to read the day before, before certain unexpected things had occurred. He led the way out on the back porch, sitting down on one end of the swing there.

 

Christian put his cup down on the porch railing before taking a seat himself. The seat of the swing wasn’t as long as the couch so they were sitting together with their thighs but inches apart. The wood creaked as Christian immediately began rocking them with a bare  
foot. Steve just lifted his feet up onto the seat, folding them Indian style and let them swing.

 

But the peaceful air didn’t last long. Christian seemed restless today, maybe it was because of the memory earlier, or maybe it was just a part of the man, Steve couldn’t yet tell. Steve had a hard time reading his book as he was busy watching Christian, who wasn’t reading his book but looking out at the yard and the ocean beyond.

 

After several minutes where Steve had reread the same paragraph ten times and Christian hadn’t even opened the cover of his book, Christian stood up. He went up to the wooden railing, resting his palms there and leaning out, his eyes on the yard.

 

“Does it seem familiar?” Steve hesitantly put his book down on the swing and went to stand beside the other man.

 

Christian shook his head, a bit sadly it seemed to Steve. “No, I was just looking. The view…you have a nice place.”

 

Steve smiled and knocked his bare shoulder against Christian’s. “Thanks. I happen to like it too.”

 

Christian smiled somewhat reluctantly at that, but his attention seemed to be fixed on the view of the ocean. Steve’s eyes followed the other man’s gaze. He tried to imagine what about the view seemed to fascinate Christian so much if he didn’t remember it from before.

 

“You want to take a walk on the beach?”

 

Christian’s face lit up at that, a big grin stretching his lips. “Yeah,” he said though the words were unnecessary.

 

Christian moved as if to jump over the railing, but Steve’s hand on his arm stopped him.

 

“Let’s put on some shorts,” Steve suggested. Christian looked for a moment like he wanted to refuse, but then he subsided and nodded. He followed Steve back inside.

 

Steve grabbed two pairs of madras shorts out of a drawer, throwing one pair at Chris along with a cloth belt.

 

“Just to make sure the shorts stay on,” Steve explained. Then Steve was scrounging through the shoes in the bottom of his closet. He found a pair of brown flip flops and threw them at Christian too.

 

“Try those on.” Steve watched as Christian slipped his feet in. The shoes were too big. “Well, good enough for flip flops.”

 

Steve turned his body at an angle from Christian to change into his own pair of shorts, seemingly constant interest making him acutely aware of the heavy weight between his thighs, the momentary chill of air on heated flesh. He suddenly wished that he were in the habit of wearing boxers under his pajama pants. Changing in front of Christian seemed even more intimate than the kiss the night before had been.

 

And the fact that the man’s eyes were on him the whole time was not helping Steve’s attempt to keep his libido in check. Steve didn’t know whether the man was doing it on purpose or not. Christian sometimes didn’t seem to understand what appropriate behavior was. Steve wondered whether that was an effect of the amnesia or whether it was a characteristic of the man himself.

 

He slipped his own feet into a pair of flips flops and then it was Steve following Christian as the man practically flew down the stairs. As they went outside and down the porch steps, Steve noticed the blue cup, still on the railing. That fact was what made the smile break out on his own face and he hurried to keep up with the other man.

 

They walked side by side down the beach, Christian choosing to be on the side nearest the water, carrying the flip flops despite the occasional rocks beneath their feet. Every once in a while, Christian would bend down to pick up odd shells which he would then throw into the water.

 

“You like living on the beach?” Christian suddenly asked.

 

“Yeah, I grew up around here, so that gives me a particular affinity for it, and I’ve chosen to live near it all my life, really.”

 

Christian nodded, almost absently. “Why do you like it? Do you look out,” Christian waved an arm out at the seemingly endless stretch of blue water, “and see freedom or…whatever?”

 

Steve shot the other man an odd look. He wondered what had brought that question on. “No, not to me. It feels like home. I like the sound of it, the smell of it, the view…lots of things.”

 

Christian nodded, again more to himself than to Steve. “I don’t remember where I grew up, but it doesn’t seem like freedom to me either.”

 

“Do you have an impression when you look out there?”

 

“Besides that it’s beautiful?” Christian grinned but then shrugged wearily. “Maybe…anonymity, I don’t know.”

 

Steve reached out a hand to squeeze Christian’s shoulder, his fingers accidentally coming to rest over a bullet-shaped scar. Christian flinched back from the touch.

 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked. Something had to be up, a second ago Christian was practically bouncing for joy and, now, Steve got the feeling Christian was wishing he hadn’t left that cup behind.

 

“T-the scars…I know you see them and feel them. But I…dammit, I don’t remember, not where I got them, or why, or whether…whether I deserved them.”

 

Christian’s voice sounded desperate, yearning and Steve was quick to put his hand again on the man’s shoulder. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be afraid of yourself, of what you were capable of.

 

“Hey, it’s ok. We’ll figure it out. I haven’t known you very long…”

 

Steve was cut off by Christian sounding even more upset. “Very long? You don’t know me at all. I have no idea if I normally act like this, I…”

 

It was Steve’s turn to cut off Christian’s tirade. “You’re still you. It’s just the you that isn’t defined by your memories, the you that doesn’t remember to hide or conform to what people expect of you or what you expect of yourself. I don’t believe that you’ve become a different person just because you can’t remember. Your personality still developed in response to what has occurred during your life and I don’t think that that can be erased.”

 

“But what if…” Christian couldn’t seem to bring himself to finish that question, but Steve thought that he understood where the man had been headed.

 

It was pretty clear to Steve that in all probability Christian had done something in his life to warrant the marks that littered his skin. If they hadn’t met like this, maybe Steve would never have gotten to know the man underneath those marks, but he had. And what Steve had found underneath was something worth seeing, someone worth knowing.

 

“Whatever it was, whatever has happened, I still think that you’re a good man.”

 

“But…” Christian interrupted again.

 

“Whatever it is,” Steve said firmly. “I think that I have seen enough to know that you’re not evil. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

 

“What, that I’m a pity case? Some poor abused kid?”

 

“No, well maybe, but there’s probably a story. People like you don’t just wake up with scars like that.”

 

“People like me?”

 

“Good people, Christian. You’ve been nice, helpful, considerate…”

 

“What if I’m a sociopath and I’m just luring you into a false sense of security?”

 

Steve actually chuckled at that. “I doubt it. I think that you’re being more truly yourself than perhaps you have ever been.”

 

Christian seemed to think about that and they walked for a while in silence. The man went back to picking up shells and sticks and throwing them. Steve could just see the man in his mind’s eye, walking his dog on the beach, running with it, throwing a Frisbee. Steve had always wanted a dog, but it would be so difficult with him being on tour.

 

“Hey, let’s head back. We’ve walked a good ways.”

 

Christian nodded easily enough as they turned around. They walked for a while more in silence, before Christian broke it. Steve thought that it was probably a good sign that the man was talking more, a sign that he was feeling more relaxed, that he was less afraid though there were definitely things that were bothering Christian, he seemed to be getting more comfortable with Steve.

 

“Have you always lived here?”

 

“No, not always. I lived in Hawaii for a while.”

 

“Why did you go there?”

 

Steve shrugged. “I just wanted to. They are a fascinating mix of people, an interesting culture. I was a chef there.”

 

“Are you a chef now?”

 

“No, I’m a musician, my real passion.”

 

“Huh, you’ll have to play me for me then.”

 

Steve smiled. “I’ve also got some CD’s back at the house.”

 

“Really? So you must be good to have made some albums.”

 

Steve laughed. “You’ll have to judge that for yourself. I’m not world famous or anything, but I have some fans.”

 

“Ri-ight,” Christian grinned teasingly. “You have some groupies, you stud?’

 

Steve only laughed harder. “I plead the fifth.”

 

“That means you had sex with them…a lot of them.”

 

Steve was still laughing in amusement and disbelief when they reached the house, climbing up the small hill to Steve’s back yard. As Steve had predicted, Christian went immediately to the blue cup, drinking the water, but also clutching it to reassure himself.

 

“You wanna go take a shower while I put together some lunch?”

 

Christian seemed not altogether pleased at the idea, but he nodded. Steve knew that the man would want some more water so he led them first to the kitchen, filling up the blue cup that Christian clutched to his slightly sweaty chest. Then they went upstairs where Steve got out a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt and got Christian his own jeans.

 

He handed the garments to the other man. “You can put the shorts back on or whatever, but I thought you might be more comfortable in your own clothes.”

 

When the blue eyes looked back at him skeptically, Steve just shrugged. “Just yell if you need anything.”

 

Steve went back downstairs, after putting his flip flops back in the closet. He was certainly glad that the first thing he had done after returning home was to go to the grocery since he was now feeding two grown men. He just made them sandwiches again and retrieved his coffee cup from the living room, putting it in the dishwasher.

 

Christian reappeared wearing the shorts without the t-shirt. The man didn’t seem to actually be self-conscious about the scarring though it was true that Steve had certainly already seen them. It wasn’t really like Christian could hide them.

 

He sat down at the table immediately, but shot expectant glances at Steve, glances that Steve took to mean that Christian wanted him to start eating so that he could as well. The meal was mostly silent as Christian pretty much inhaled his sandwich, obviously feeling better. Christian even went ahead and put his plate in the dishwasher before sitting back at the table, holding the cup between both his  
hands.

 

Steve finished shortly afterward and put his plate in the dishwasher before he poured more water in both of their cups.

 

“Well, I’m gonna go take my shower now. Ooh, we should get the books from outside.”

 

Christian followed Steve out to the porch, where Steve handed him back the book that Christian hadn’t been interested in earlier.

 

“You can read that or watch tv or whatever til I get back.” Steve felt a bit odd, acting as if this grown man couldn’t amuse himself for a few minutes.

 

“Where are your CD’s?” Christian asked.

 

Steve smiled and shook his head in mock consternation. He was actually pretty flattered that Christian cared enough to not only remember but to basically demand to listen to them.

 

He kneeled down next to a short bookcase where the CD’s were kept, the player on the top.

 

“There are four of them. This one, Stripped Down is the most recent.”

 

Steve went ahead and loaded that one into the CD player and then gave Christian who was kneeling behind him, the remote. “Uh, if you want to change the CD, just…”

 

Christian grinned, “I think I’ve got it. I am smarter than the machine, no matter how fancy it is.”

 

Steve chuckled lightly at himself and his overly-concerned behavior. “Well, ok…”

 

But Christian was no longer looking at his face or the CD player, he was staring at the tattoo on Steve’s right bicep. The design was of feathers.

 

“It’s an Indian, um, Native American design.”

 

“I know,” Christian’s voice had gone low and tense. The man’s fingers reached out to touch the design almost like he couldn’t prevent himself from doing so. Steve’s breath caught in his throat as the fingers made contact, the gentle exploring touch feeling more intimate than surely it was meant. It made Steve very aware of how little they were both wearing.

 

“Is it a memory?” Steve asked, seeing the same sudden tension in Christian’s muscles, the same faraway look in his eyes as before with the pancakes.

 

Christian’s forehead crinkled in confusion and frustration again, before he let out a huge sigh and dropped his hand. “Nothing specific, but it’s familiar.” Christian’s voice sounded exhausted.

 

It was Steve’s hand that reached out now, in reassurance. “Hey, don’t worry. They’ll come when they’re ready, ok?”

 

Christian nodded petulantly. But then his attention turned back to the tattoo. “It’s…cool.”

 

Steve smiled in response, but just then he couldn’t help looking at Christian’s appearance with a speculative eye. Christian’s skin tone was definitely darker than most, and perhaps his body type could be considered…Christian looked like he might have Native American ancestry, certainly not 100% but still.

 

But Steve decided not to say anything. He didn’t want to force the memories and he didn’t in fact know that that was why the design seemed familiar. His assumptions might just further confuse the man.

 

“Well, you have fun with those CD’s,” Steve said standing and making his way upstairs.

Steve brought clean clothes for himself back to the bathroom and started the shower. Looking at himself in the mirror after stripping off his shorts and boxers, his eye was drawn to his own tattoos: one tribal, one a cross, one the nautical star, all three different in design. They all had a meaning, a story; they reminded him of specific times early in his life, people. He had chosen each one with care.

 

Christian didn’t have any tattoos, he had seen. The man hadn’t been wearing any jewelry when Steve had found him either. In fact, his clothing was entirely nondescript, not even the belt buckle had a design on it. The only distinctive markings on Christian’s body were things that had been done to Christian, not things that the man had chosen.

 

Steve supposed that it could just be a personal choice. Plenty of men chose not to wear jewelry or have tattoos, but still it felt like an injustice to Steve. That Christian’s body should bear witness to all the horrible times in his life, should only have reminders of pain on it, that his body seemed to be the creation of another, not Christian’s own.

 

As he stepped under the pounding water, it only took the feel of the water combining with his thoughts of Christian’s body to take his dick from a state of perpetual interest to hard as nails. Though Steve’s hand moved immediately towards it, he forced himself to pause, wondering if Christian would notice anything about the length of his shower. Then again, at this point, Steve was pretty sure that this wouldn’t take very long.

 

He turned his back to the pounding spray, feeling it run down the muscles of his back, intensely aware of how the water ran down the crease of his ass. It wasn’t like he hadn’t enjoyed the occasional night with both men and women while on his tour, but Christian set his blood boiling like he hadn’t been laid in years with just a glance, much less when Steve got a glance of his amazing body.

 

Steve didn’t tease, wanting to hurry back to Christian waiting downstairs even as he imagined Christian standing nude at the window, lying vulnerable and trusting in Steve’s bed that morning, that tiny smile after Christian had had his memory of pancakes, that big grin as Steve invited him to walk on the beach. All of those images swirled in his mind as his hand wrapped around his cock.

 

Leaning over on one hand placed on the opposite shower wall, Steve’s head fell forward, his eyes landing on the sight of the head of his dick being forced through his tight fist. It didn’t take long before he was panting in the humid air, wet tendrils of his hair clung to his face as his head fell back on a long, low groan that echoed in the small space.

 

Steve felt like laughing at himself. As if masturbating on the tour wasn’t difficult enough, but now here he was with cum on his hand and visions in his head of the man downstairs, for God’s sake. Needless to say the rest of the shower was quick and perfunctory.

 

Getting out of the shower and drying off, Steve ran a comb through his own long locks. He decided not to put on a shirt either. It was spring, great weather, and he never liked to wear one if he didn’t have to. Christian wasn’t bothered so neither was he.

 

As he felt the familiar trails of water droplets down his back, Steve did wonder about Christian’s hair. For a man that seemed to be trying in all other ways to be nondescript, the hair was a bit unusual. He wondered if there was a story behind it.

 

As soon as he opened the bathroom door, Steve heard the strains of his own chords. Smiling as he made his way back down the stairs, Steve found Christian flat on his back on the couch, moving his feet to the rhythm. Christian didn’t even notice Steve’s presence. The music was loud and Christian was holding the CD insert above his face, staring at it.

 

Unable to keep the smile from becoming a smirk, Steve tapped on Christian’s feet. The man startled, but then smiled sheepishly and moved his feet off the couch so that Steve could sit down. Then the man put his feet back on Steve’s lap.

 

Steve had to laugh and shake himself at the audacity that Christian was now showing, confident of his place in Steve’s life and Steve’s feelings for him. Steve left the feet there, because he didn’t actual mind them. Leaning over them, he grabbed his book on the coffee table.

 

The music was too loud for him to be able to read though. Really, Steve thought that he ought to just give up on any reading in the foreseeable future. Christian seemed to take up so much time and energy. He was like a little kid. Steve suspected that that was a part of Christian’s normal personality, but he also thought that Christian at the moment had a lot in common with a kid. He was exploring the world around him, learning about Steve and himself.

 

Just as Steve was about to insist that Christian turn the music down because he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, Christian did so without prompting. Steve knew then that the man was going to speak and turned his face towards Christian in anticipation of it.

 

Christian didn’t disappoint. “You’re pretty good. I can see now why all those groupies want in your pants…”

 

Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled. “You’re really not letting go of that are you?” He asked right before he shoved Christian’s feet off his lap.

 

Christian sat up with a smile and a laugh. “Ah, don’t be like that. I just want to know how much of a stud you are.”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

Christian actually looked sheepish then, coy even. “I thought that’d be obvious after last night.”

 

Steve opened his mouth, surprised at the admission and not having a clue what to say, but Christian kept talking as if he hadn’t said anything revealing.

 

“How long have you wanted to be a musician?” Christian diverted the conversation.

 

Steve let him, answering the new question with no comment on Christian’s previous statement. “Uh, all my life really. I grew up playing instruments and listening to the classics with my parents.”

 

“Like who?”

 

“Like the Beatles, the Stones, Stevie Wonder...”

 

“So what was with being a chef?”

 

Steve shrugged. Scraping a hand through his still-wet hair, he felt awful put on the spot. He knew that Christian was only curious but the man’s questions were so frank, he suddenly felt like he was justifying all of his life’s decisions.

 

“I had to pay the bills. Being a musician isn’t easy. I was 28 when that first album came out. And I enjoyed being a chef, it’s fascinating and inventive in its own way.”

 

“And you’re happy now?”

 

Wow, Steve thought, go ahead and ask the hard questions. He thought again about his longing for love, that perfect someone who just fit. He thought of all his failed relationships, all the love songs that he had written and every song of heartbreak. But then he thought of everything that he did have.

 

“I love what I do. Whether I play to a crowd of five people or five thousand people, I’m just happy to play.”

 

Christian rubbed his now clean shaven chin. He looked lost and contemplative and Steve knew that he was thinking about the blankness of his own past.

 

Steve leaned over, placing a comforting hand without thought on Christian’s bare thigh where the shorts had ridden up. But as soon as the hand landed the air in the room changed, became thick with the sexual tension between them. Steve would swear that he could feel Christian’s eyes upon him but he refused to look the other man in the eye. He didn’t think he wanted to know what was in Christian’s eyes and he knew he didn’t want Christian to see what was in his own blue eyes.

 

Instead, Steve just lifted his hand off Christian’s leg. Though he still wasn’t looking at the other man’s face, he clearly saw Christian’s stiff posture, and he watched as Christian turned his body away from Steve. He saw Christian’s hand reach for the cup and his book from the coffee table.

 

Turning his own body towards Christian as if to make up for the distance that now was between them, Steve watched as Christian cradled the cup between his right arm and his chest, while his left hand opened the book now on his lap. Steve finally saw Christian’s face, drawn with disappointment and rejection, and possibly embarrassment, but Steve didn’t have a single clue what to say to fix this.

 

He still thought that it would be a bad idea to let anything sexual happen between them. Steve couldn’t drown out the voice that said that he would be taking advantage of a man in a vulnerable situation who was dependent on him. Would Christian even still be attracted to him if the man weren’t stuck in this house with him twenty four hours a day?

 

On the other hand, he couldn’t imagine how Christian felt to be seemingly rejected by the only person that Christian currently felt safe with. It wasn’t as if Steve were under the impression that he was unattractive, like there was no way that Christian would be attracted to him if Christian were in his right mind, but still…

 

And Steve couldn’t exactly stop touching Christian, couldn’t take away that physical comfort, so he had to figure out some way to deal with this. Sighing, Steve picked his own book up off the coffee table, but kept his body turned toward the other man, his side to the back of the couch.

 

To Steve’s great surprise, Christian actually seemed to read his book even turning the pages. In fact, Christian was reading faster than Steve since Steve’s attention was still mostly focused on his couch companion. When the CD ended, Christian got up to change it, having no trouble figuring out the player and soon the strains of the song, “If It Ain’t Easy” were heard.

 

It took Steve forever to realize that he was waiting, and the longer he had to wait, the more nervous he got. It was as if Christian were punishing him by not paying attention to Steve. Even when Christian had been silent that first day, Steve had had the man’s attention. Christian had been constantly watching, a little suspicious, a little curious, the man had taken his cues from Steve on how to act. Now Steve found himself floundering without the weight of that regard.

 

Which was very strange for Steve. Steve liked to think that he had never labored under the expectations of others. He wasn’t the type of guy that had to be the center of attention. Even in a relationship, Steve was perfectly content to let his partner do his or her own thing.

 

But those people weren’t Christian. Christian didn’t act like this, he was purposefully avoiding looking or talking to Steve and that was what was bothering Steve. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t believe that Christian could be still and quiet except when he had a headache that scrambled his brains, but before they had been together even while doing their own thing, now they were just separate. And it concerned Steve a little how miserable that made him feel.

 

But eventually, Steve saw his chance. Christian had slowed the turning of his pages, mostly staring off into space, his feet still moving to the beat of the song that was playing.

 

“You want to hear some of my songs live?” Steve asked, hopeful that he had thought of something to bridge the divide between them.

 

Steve’s sudden words seemed to startle Christian out of his contemplation of the music, but the blue eyes were still wary as they fixed their attention on Steve. Again Steve felt like those eyes were determining his worth, as if they were seeing more than what was visible to the eye and Steve could only hope that all of his care and concern for the other man was visible.

 

Steve wasn’t sure this time whether he passed the inspection. Christian answered with only a nonchalant, “Sure.”

 

Standing to retrieve his guitar from a room on the first floor that Steve called his music room but really was just a room cluttered with musical paraphernalia, Steve realized that Christian had put down neither his book nor the cup when he accepted Steve’s offer. It wasn’t a good sign.

 

Steve wondered whether there was even any water in the cup at this point since he hadn’t seen the other man actually drink from it in a while. He returned with the guitar and was pleased to see that the actual sight of the musical instrument had garnered Christian’s full attention.

 

Christian seemed to abandon his previously wounded air, instead he immediately turned his body towards Steve, tucking one leg up underneath his body and looking as eager as a child awaiting a present. Christian even put the book down on the coffee table.

 

But not the cup. As Steve situated himself on his side of the couch again, he had to wonder why Christian was still holding onto it. Did it have something to do with the guitar or was the man still upset with Steve? Christian seemed to be clutching it tightly in his hands but he hadn’t brought it to his chest. It was almost as if Christian didn’t trust his hands unoccupied at that moment.

 

“Do you remember any song that you particularly wanted to hear?”

 

“’One Thing’,” Christian responded immediately. The man’s gaze only flicked up to Steve’s face for a moment, presumably to judge Steve’s acceptance of the song choice, before his eyes were again only concentrated on the beautiful acoustic guitar.

 

Steve watched as Christian’s eyes followed the movement of his fingers as he checked to make sure the guitar was in tune. It was a good thing that Steve knew his songs by heart because he was as entranced by Christian’s reaction as Christian was entranced by Steve’s playing.

 

Christian seemed both tense and relaxed as he listened, his arms slowly bending at the elbow until the cup was again clutched to the man’s bare, bruised chest. But the man’s face was soft, rapt at the view and the sound. Steve thought that Christian almost looked afraid at how much he loved it.

 

Coming to the end of Christian’s choice, the man didn’t even comment, just seemed to be expecting Steve to continue. So Steve did, beginning the song “Fade Away” next. Christian slowly relaxed as Steve played, his body drifting to lean his side against the back of the couch, the cup again dropping to rest on his lap. In all Steve played five songs before he stopped.

 

Resting the guitar on his own lap, Steve asked, “I guess you don’t remember if you played any instruments?”

 

Christian shook his head, his eyes once again leaving the guitar to meet Steve’s own. “I don’t think that I did.” That adorably perplexed look came over Christian’s features again.

 

If Steve hadn’t been watching so closely, hadn’t been practically cataloguing Christian’s every movement, he would have missed the aborted move that Christian’s hand made away from the cup.

 

Steve offered his guitar to the other man since he seemed so fascinated by it. At first Christian wouldn’t take it, only ran his fingers along the sounding board. But Steve insisted, pushing it at the man until Christian set the cup on the table and took the instrument in his arms, looking like he was afraid he’d break it, as if Christian thought of himself as too big and clumsy to handle something so delicate even though Steve thought that he had never known anyone who combined such strength and such grace.

 

He saw the instant Christian’s blue eyes became distant, a moment before Christian spoke.

 

“We couldn’t afford one. I never asked because I knew that we needed every dime I could bring in.”

 

“You didn’t ask your parents?” Steve prompted.

 

“Yeah, well, my mom, I think,” Christian’s musing trailed off, the rest of the information still lost in his head somewhere.

 

Christian handed the guitar back, freeing both his hands to run through his hair in exasperation. Steve knew then that frustration was overrunning the satisfaction that should come from remembering something, no matter how small.

 

“You want to learn how to play?”

 

Christian’s head came up in a hurry, his eyes wide and doe-like at Steve’s offer. Full lips parted but Steve didn’t let Christian speak before he had tried again to convince the other man.

 

“I’ll teach you. You know just a little, something to fill the time…” Steve had tried to sound casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, but even he could hear the pleading note in his own voice.

 

Steve didn’t know himself why it was so important that Christian agree. Perhaps it was just because he wanted to teach the man something, something to take with him when all this was over. Maybe it was because Christian seemed to love the music so much and Steve wanted to give that to him, that childhood dream that hadn’t been fulfilled. Maybe it was just because Steve wanted to keep that soft look of happiness and awe on Christian’s face.

 

Christian still didn’t look convinced, his face shuttering away that initial surprise, his eyes dropping as he shook his head. But Steve wasn’t going to be deterred.

 

“Come on,” he said, moving closer to Christian’s side of the couch, pushing the guitar back at the other man. “Ooh, wait,” Steve hopped up off the couch, forcing Christian to take the guitar as he went back to the ‘music’ room.

 

Steve almost laughed as he looked back at the other man. Christian was holding the guitar in the same way that the inexperienced would hold a baby, like he was both afraid of it and afraid of hurting it. In the ‘music’ room, Steve searched the clutter for the sheet music of the song that Christian had first requested, “One Thing”.

 

It took longer to find than Steve had thought, but eventually he re-entered the living room to find Christian no longer holding the guitar away from him, but now almost cradling it. Steve had brought in a second guitar so that he could show Christian the chords on the guitar at the same time as Christian could see the notes on the page.

 

This time Steve sat on the coffee table so he could face Christian. He rested the guitar on his lap for a second as he pulled his hair back into a low pony tail with one of the hair bands that he had littered throughout his house. Christian seemed to watch that process intently as well.

 

“Do you want to pull your hair back?” Steve asked.

 

Christian seemed completely indecisive. Steve had to admit that it wasn’t exactly the most fantastic option since the front pieces were always falling out and back into his eyes and he imagined it would be the same for Christian.

 

“I have a bandanna,” Steve suddenly said. He didn’t wait for a reply this time, simply set the guitar down on the coffee table and ran off again. When he returned and held out the red bandanna to the other man, then Christian was confused about where to put the guitar out of the way, apparently paranoid about the instrument’s safety while putting the bandanna on. Steve took it from him to solve the dilemma.

 

Finally, with Steve’s hair in a pony tail and Christian’s in a bandanna, the two guitars settled across their laps, Steve was ready to begin. He showed Christian how to hold the guitar, how to strum the strings. Then he taught Christian the first chords of the song, how to hold the strings down with his fingers and how to recognize the chord on the sheet music.

 

But Steve found his fingers itching to place Christian’s fingers in the right position, so eventually he succumbed, standing and placing his guitar back on a nearby chair. Christian looked up at him with embarrassed eyes, expecting to be reprimanded and the guitar taken away, Steve supposed.

 

“Stand up for a second, I have an idea. My dad did this with me, but that was back when I was little so we’re going to have to improvise.”

 

Christian stood, his hands already offering the guitar back but Steve decided not to acknowledge the gesture.

 

“Sit back down on the coffee table facing the couch.” Steve directed.

 

With a confused look, Christian complied and Steve swung his leg around the other man’s back, sitting down behind Christian. Steve could feel how Christian tensed at them being that close. Of course, Steve himself tensed, giving his libido a stern talking to as his dick took an interest at being that close to Christian.

 

But Steve forced himself to relax, his arms coming up to lightly encircle the other man, his hands covering Christian’s own hands on the guitar strings. He peered over Christian’s shoulder at the joined hands.

 

He knew it was an intimate position and possibly not his most brilliant plan after what had occurred earlier. But it was the best way to learn. Steve thought it odd that Christian was so uncomfortable with the Steve being close when Christian seemed so gung-ho about jumping into sex together. Perhaps it was the fact that it was an intimate, cuddly position rather than a sexual one or perhaps it had to do with Steve’s earlier rejection.

 

The sheet music lay on the couch, facing them so they could read it. “See,” Steve knew his breath was fanning out over Christian’s cheek before the man shuddered in the circle of his arms. Still Steve was determined to focus on teaching Christian the song instead of the feel of Christian’s muscular back against his chest, instead of the thought of how well Christian fit against him, Christian’s slightly smaller frame that just right between too big and too small.

 

“If you hold your hand like this, that chord will be easier. And then slide it down to the next position…” Steve knew that this wasn’t the best song to learn on, it wasn’t an easy song meant to learn on, but Steve was confident in Christian’s ability. The man’s mind was quick, his fingers dexterous, it would just take a while, time Steve hoped that they would have.

 

But Christian’s body stayed tense to the end, til Christian’s stomach growled signaling that practice time was over and it was time to make dinner.

 

Steve laughed softly at the sound and then swung his leg back over the coffee table and away from Christian’s heat. “I guess that’s the sound of the dinner bell.” Steve said taking the guitar back from the other man.

 

“Sorry,” Christian said.

“Don’t be,” Steve replied lightly as he carried the two instruments back to their stands in the music room.

 

Christian was definitely clinging to the empty blue cup when Steve returned, crushing it to his chest that Steve was concerned the plastic cup would break under the force. Steve was suddenly unsure about the wisdom of these lessons. He didn’t want Christian to feel more anxious because of them.

 

“We don’t have to play the guitar if you don’t want to.” Steve said.

 

Christian smiled, it was a dark, self-deprecating expression though. “No, I want to learn, I just…I don’t know.” The smile disappeared as did the light from Christian’s blue eyes and then Christian was shaking his head, more to himself than to Steve.

 

“Maybe you still feel guilty, like it’s too much of a luxury like you said before?” Steve ventured.

 

Christian quirked his head to the side, considering Steve’s words. Eventually he decided on, “Maybe. Maybe that’s it.”

 

Steve wanted to ask if it was him that Christian had the problem with, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t actually want to know the answer to that question just in case the answer was yes. He would rather cling to the fact that Christian hadn’t seemed to mind his closeness, his physical comfort before now. Well, except for how Christian had flinched at the contact in the beginning.

 

“Well, let’s go scrounge up some dinner,” Steve said instead.

 

The first thing he did upon opening the refrigerator was to grab the pitcher and pour more water in Christian’s cup. Steve hoped that having a full glass of water would ease Christian’s mind, fortify Christian’s trust that Steve would take care of him.

 

Then he scrounged out some meat and vegetables and rice. “Can you chop some more vegetables?”

 

Christian seemed oddly relieved as he nodded his agreement to the inquiry. He even put the cup down before sitting at the table with a knife and cutting board again.

 

And as they chopped and mixed and waited, Christian began to talk again, an even better sign.

 

“If you were 28 when you made your first album…were you trying to be a musician before that?”

 

“Yeah, I played at small bars and what not, made demos and sent them out…for a while it was hard to both be a full-time chef and try to keep my music dream alive but it obviously all worked out. The albums are produced by a small recording company but…well, you know,  
it would be great if my music could be heard all over the world and I definitely work to get the word out, but if it doesn’t happen…” Steve shrugged. “It’ll be ok.”

 

Christian nodded though he appeared thoughtful as if he were still considering Steve’s words. “Do you still play live, like tour or whatever?”

 

Steve smiled, “I actually just finished a tour, mostly throughout California and other western states, but I play all over, even internationally. It’s mostly small venues, but I like that. It’s more intimate, you can interact with the crowd more.”

 

“That’s cool. I’d love to see you play for a crowd. I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

 

Steve’s grin faltered just a little, but he could tell from the similar change in Christian’s expression that the other man had noticed. “Well, you’ll just have to be sure and come to a show on my next tour.”

 

Christian seemed to understand Steve’s hesitation to make plans about their future when it was so uncertain, as uncertain as Christian’s past. They both fell silent.

 

Eventually Steve took a seat at the table as well, as they waited for everything to cook. The musician thought about a beer, but didn’t want to drink when Christian probably shouldn’t be having any.

 

Steve got a cup of water for himself and served up their food. Christian even paused in his hovering over his plate to continue talking. Steve considered that a great sign, that Christian felt comfortable enough that his food wouldn’t be taken away to divert his attention for a moment.

 

“So do you play with a band or something?”

 

Steve swallowed his mouthful before answering. “Yeah, well, that first CD was with a band and now there are some guys that I normally play and tour with. And there are lots of other musicians that I know and like to collaborate with.”

 

Christian nodded, apparently thinking that over. “Are they here in town? Cause I was just noticing that you haven’t had anywhere to go or anybody calling…?”

 

Steve chuckled, the man was definitely perceptive. “Like I said I just finished a tour and everybody knows at this point that after a tour I like to spend a little ‘alone time’. It’s just that on tour, you’re with people all the time, and even though I love those guys, I always need a break afterwards.”

 

“So I’m interrupting your ‘alone time’.”

 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement said with apparent self-condemnation. “No, Christian. I wouldn’t say that you’re interrupting at all.” Steve didn’t say that it felt like Christian was exactly what he had been looking for. He had only known the man two days, didn’t really know anything about the man except Christian’s personality and yet, Steve was already so tangled up in Christian that he was no longer certain he’d been able to get out again.

 

Christian gave him a funny look and Steve didn’t blame him for not understanding.

 

“But they’ll probably call in a day or so, wanting to get together. You should meet them.” Steve hoped that he was getting the message across that even after Christian’s memory returned he’d like to spend time with the man.

 

They finished eating and cleaned up. Heading back to the living room, Christian picked up the sheet music that had been left there before sitting down.

 

“Do you want to find something on tv to watch?” Steve offered, holding out the remote. But Christian just shook his head, still looking over the papers in his hand.

 

Steve ended up flipped between a dozen different programs, Forensic Files, Law and Order reruns, Mythbusters. They chatted, mostly about the shows, but Christian continued holding onto the sheet music, the cup sitting on the coffee table. Steve had no idea why, couldn’t tell whether that was a good sign or a bad one, but it did bolster his opinion that the music lesson was a good idea.

 

Around midnight two heads were lying back on the couch and so Steve figured that it was time to call it a night.

 

“Ready to head to bed?”

 

Christian nodded and they headed first to the kitchen for more water and then up the stairs to the bathroom. Christian followed Steve into his bedroom. Steve hadn’t asked Christian where he wanted to sleep, hadn’t offered, had just figured that Christian would let him know.

 

Steve couldn’t say whether he was glad that Christian wanted to sleep with him or not. On the one hand, it meant that Christian wasn’t comfortable sleeping alone and that wasn’t great, though Steve admitted that he was happy that Christian felt safe with him. And he couldn’t decide whether he loved having Christian near him even if they were just sleeping, or whether he hated being that near temptation.

 

They both undressed this time. And again, Steve felt that it was painfully intimate, just taking off his shorts with the feel of Christian’s eyes on him. Christian’s hands hovered over the waistband of his own boxers, indecisive as he eyed Steve still in his. To Steve’s relief, Christian decided to leave them on, though he didn’t look terribly happy about it and they both crawled under the sheet.

 

Christian didn’t try anything that night, not that Steve thought that he would. The message had definitely been received loud and clear and neither of the men was happy about it. He did, however, lie down on his stomach more toward the middle than his own side. And after a moment’s thought, Steve scooted towards the middle too. He supposed that being near Christian in any capacity was better than nothing. And if Christian needed comfort, he was going to do his very best to give it.

 

But God, did Steve want to just rest his cheek against the nearest golden skinned shoulder, throw his arm around the man’s tapered waist. But despite the enticement lying close at hand, Steve again found it easy to fall asleep.

 

He didn’t stay asleep that night, though. Steve had no idea what time it was when he awoke in the dark. He had always been a light sleeper, but, at first, Steve had no idea what it was that had woken him. Then he heard it again.

 

It was a grunt, seemingly of pain, and the semi-aborted movements of thrashing next to him. His eyes adjusting to the scant light, Steve saw Christian still on his stomach, twitching and trembling, but not kicking out at whatever he was dreaming of. And the noises continued, whines and pants and grunts like a man makes when he’s been kicked in the chest.

 

But should Steve wake him? Steve couldn’t remember whether it was worse to wake a person in the middle of a nightmare than to let it play out, but, in the end, he couldn’t simply lie there and listen to the man suffer. So, keeping most of his body away, he reached out a hand to shake the man’s back.

 

“Christian!” He didn’t quite shout, but the word was definitely said loudly and sharply. “Christian!”

 

The man suddenly woke, jerking away from Steve’s hand by rolling onto his other side. Steve held very still, his arm still up and out as he let Christian get his bearings, let his eyes adjust to the dark.

 

“It’s just me, it’s Steve,” he identified himself as he had the previous night. “You’re safe, it’s ok.”

 

Christian was panting, his breath loud in the dark silent bedroom. Like he had done the night before, Steve moved his hands slowly as he reached for Christian. “Come here, its ok. It’s fine.”

 

It was just soothing nonsense that Steve murmured as his hands made contact with Christian’s sweaty skin and drew the man closer, into an embrace. Steve slipped one arm underneath Christian’s neck while the other wrapped around the man’s waist. For a moment, Christian just let Steve move him, rolling into Steve’s body still trembling and panting.

 

But then he was pulling away. “No, I’m ok. I can’t even remember it. Just a dream, just a…”

 

Steve wouldn’t let go though. “Nonsense,” Steve’s voice came out sharp, sharper than he had meant. “Just come here.”

 

Christian seemed surprised by the commanding tone and let Steve pull him back in.

 

“That was a pretty bad nightmare,” Steve said. “It’s ok, you know…to be frightened. Your mind is starting to remember things and it’s obvious that there have been some pretty painful and probably frightening moments in your life. Add to that the fact that you can’t remember, that it’s just this nameless fear right now…”

 

As Steve was speaking he was still pulling Christian, pulling until they were chest to chest, until Steve could bend his head and kiss Christian’s shoulder if he were so inclined, until his bicep was under Christian’s neck and he could bend that arm to rub soothing circles on Christian’s shoulder with that hand.

 

They were both silent for a long moment as Christian’s breath evened out further. They were silent long enough for Steve’s initial concern to melt away a little, just enough that he became aware of the feel of Christian’s slick chest against his own skin, the soft rasp of Christian’s stubble against his own cheek. He squeezed the warm body in his arms and then rubbed Christian’s back.

 

“Do you remember anything about it? A feeling even?”

 

Christian had the hand of the arm that he was lying on against Steve’s chest and now the other arm came up to encircle Steve’s body. The man even seemed to snuggle closer before answering.

 

“Darkness, and…I couldn’t move.” Christian’s voice was quiet as if he were embarrassed at saying his fear aloud.

 

Steve squeezed him again. They lay there on their sides for a few minutes, before Christian was trying to pull away again. Steve didn’t understand what the man’s problem was so he let Christian pull away.

 

“Sorry. I’m ok, I just…thanks, I guess.” Now Christian’s voice was clearly embarrassed and Steve wasn’t surprised when the man then turned completely away, rolling to lie on his side, turning his back to Steve.

 

Steve looked up, toward the headboard not heaven as he tried not to sigh. He rolled over after Christian, curling up around the other man’s back and resting his face in the curve of shoulder and neck.

 

He wasn’t surprised when Christian stiffened at his touch. Steve was beginning to think that he knew now why Christian had been so uncomfortable when Steve had sat behind him earlier to teach the man the guitar. Christian was seemingly uncomfortable with being comforted, held or cuddled. But as Steve wrapped his arms around the body in front of him, much as he had held Christian before, he decided he didn’t care if Christian didn’t like it because Christian needed it.

 

“What are you doing?” Christian’s voice was gruff and annoyed. “I’m ok, you don’t…you don’t need to coddle me.”

 

“I’m not coddling you, I’m comforting you.”

 

Christian squirmed with unease, but eventually subsided when he realized Steve wasn’t letting go. This time it took them both a long time to fall asleep. Steve simply held on, becoming increasing aware of the fact that only cotton boxers separated his dick from Christian’s perfect ass. He tried to concentrate instead on the feel of warm skin, the rhythm of the man’s still short breaths, and the satisfaction of comforting someone who really needed it.

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

They awoke in much the same position as they had gone to sleep and Steve tried not to feel too smug about the fact that apparently Christian hadn’t had any more nightmares with Steve’s arms around him.

 

With them pressed together, Steve’s waking woke Christian. He didn’t really want to move, but Steve quickly rolled away to his back at the first presumably accidental rub of Christian’s ass against Steve’s morning wood. Christ, Steve thought as he stared at his ceiling. This was an impossible situation.

 

A moment later, Christian was rolling onto his other side to face Steve. Christian’s eyes were unreadable as they roamed over Steve’s sprawled mostly-naked body and up to his face. Steve was afraid to even look down and see how much of a tent was visible in his boxers as he tried to focus on un-sexy things. There may have been a glint of a smirk in Christian’s eyes though.

 

“Morning,” Christian said, his sleepy grumble really not helping Steve’s erection.

 

“Morning.”

 

“So what’s the plan today?” Christian asked right before he rolled to his own back, stretching his arms over his head as he carefully arched his back and made noises of satisfaction.

 

God, he’s a bastard, Steve thought, though at least he’s feeling better. Steve had to force his brain to work above his waistband to answer the question.

 

“Mmm, I don’t know. You want to practice on the guitar some more?”

 

Christian grinned, rolling back onto his side. “Yeah.”

 

Steve had to grin back. He stretched himself, not as extravagantly or carefully, only putting his arms up to the headboard and he was about to ask Christian what he wanted for breakfast but Christian’s eyes were on his chest again.

 

He was putting his arms back down when he realized that Christian was in fact staring again at the arm band tattoo.

 

“You know it’s actually…”

 

“It’s Cherokee,” Christian said, his fingers reaching out to trace the design on the sensitive underside of his bicep.

 

Steve curled that arm behind his head as he let Christian look and touch. “Do you think you are…is that why you recognize it?” Steve couldn’t help asking this time.

 

“I think?” It was phrased as a question. “I remember my grandfather telling stories about Hummingbird to me and my sister when he went outside on the porch to smoke hand rolled cigarettes.”

 

Steve practically held his breath as Christian continued to caress the marked skin now with the backs of his knuckles. It was the first time that Christian had mentioned a sister. Steve wondered if there was a family out there wondering where their son was, maybe Christian was a missing person even.

 

It made Steve feel guilty for not wanting Christian to remember, for wanting to keep him longer. He thought again about going to the authorities, but, at this point, Steve was afraid to take Christian to the police. What if the man was running from something?

 

When Christian stayed silent, Steve asked, “Is she older or younger?”

 

“Younger,” Christian said with a ghost of a proud smile on his lips. “She’d braid my hair and put beads in it on that porch.”

 

Steve smiled at the imagery. Christian must have really loved her to allow that. He wondered if Christian would let him braid the dark hair.

 

With a sigh, Steve couldn’t tell was frustrated or contented, Christian sat up, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. Though, Christian had been smiling while describing the small memories, now they also seemed to sadden the man. He turned away from Steve, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he rested his elbows on his knees as he continued to run a hand over his mouth.

 

Steve followed, pressing a hand to the small of Christian’s back momentarily before he stood up. “What do you want for breakfast?”

 

Christian looked up and then shrugged, standing himself and grabbing for the shorts he had worn yesterday. Steve went in the bathroom first and then headed downstairs to make some eggs.

 

Christian took a seat at the table a moment later, the bandanna once again holding his hair away from his face., The man was obviously troubled, staring into his blue cup of water as if it held the answers to life, the universe, and everything, particularly his own past. It made Steve wonder if Christian had remembered more than he had said.

 

Splitting the eggs and toast between two plates, Steve put one in front of Christian with a cup of coffee. But Christian didn’t seem particularly interested in the food.

 

“Hey, what’s up? Did you remember something else?”

 

Christian looked up at Steve, meeting his eyes briefly before Christian returned his to the cup.

 

“No, it’s just a feeling really. I’m still missing so many pieces and I’m missing the piece that would tell me why remembering my family makes me feel…wrong, somehow.”

 

Steve had to admit that it was strange. Christian hadn’t remember anything wrong or upsetting really, just that they hadn’t had a lot of money for luxuries. It was very possible that Christian was keeping anything traumatic below the surface unconsciously. And Steve thought it was odd that Christian’s father hadn’t been mentioned as of yet.

 

“Do you remember anything about your father?” Steve asked.

 

Christian shook his head. “No, it’s like he wasn’t there though, in what I have remembered. If you’re thinking he abused me or something, I don’t think so.”

 

Steve nodded, not wanting to admit that he had considered that. Violence begets violence and growing up in a violent household could have far-reaching effects. Course, just because it wasn’t the father didn’t mean that it didn’t happen at all.

 

Christian interrupted his thoughts. “You still want to make me into some pity case. I’m not. I can’t remember if my childhood was perfect but I think…I think whatever it is, it’s my own fault.”

 

Steve shook his head. It was likely Christian would feel at fault no matter what had happened, but in the end, they still just didn’t know what had happened.

 

“Let’s wait on that and see what else you remember, ok? Don’t jump to any conclusions.”

 

Christian scowled but didn’t respond. He didn’t pick up the fork either just continued holding onto the cup. Steve wanted to say something but figured that nagging probably wasn’t the best thing to do in this situation. He also decided not to change Christian’s cup. Whatever germs might be in there probably didn’t compare to the comfort that Christian would probably get by keeping something  
familiar.

 

“Come on, let’s go get the guitars.”

They quickly cleaned up from breakfast, scraping the leftovers into the trash. Steve pulled his own hair back in a band again, tucking the front pieces behind his ears as they walked over to the music room.

 

Christian seemed in awe of the whole room, the messy set up seemingly only adding to his curiosity. Steve watched as blue eyes roamed over the scattered pieces of paper and the different instruments.

 

Steve was going to hand the other guitar over to Christian but didn’t since the man was still clutching the blue cup. So instead he brought the two guitars out in his two hands, asking Christian to close the door behind them.

 

The sheet music to the song that Steve was teaching was still on the coffee table and Christian picked the papers up immediately, though he didn’t put down the cup yet.

 

“You want to see how much you remember? Try it yourself from the top?” Steve asked.

 

Seeming suddenly shy, Christian nodded. Hesitantly, he set the cup down on the coffee table and then took a seat right next to it, laying the pages out on the couch in front of him. Pleased that playing the guitar seemed to take precedent over clutching the security cup, Steve handed the guitar over.

 

Steve took a seat on the couch, facing Christian. The other man had forgotten some of the chords, but he did much better than Steve would have thought. They spent several hours practicing, Steve switching from sitting on the couch to sitting behind Christian to sitting on the couch again.

 

Again it was Christian’s stomach growling that signaled an end to the practice. Steve let his face fall forward onto the other man’s bare shoulder to stifle his laughter. He figured that people as muscular as Christian needed to eat.

 

Though Christian had seemed interested in the music lesson, during lunch it was clear that Christian was still upset. He was quiet and introspective, keeping the cup close though he ate the food on his plate at least. They were just cleaning up when the phone rang.

 

Christian stared at him in surprise at the sound and waited in the kitchen as Steve went into the living room to pick it up.

 

“Hello.”

 

“You still alive?” said the voice, familiar and warm, amused at his own joke.

 

“Jensen, I figured you’d call sooner rather than later.”

 

The man on the other end laughed, a deep and genuine sound. “Aww we missed you. You’ve been on tour for months, man. I gave you a couple of days to recover.”

 

“Yeah, only a couple.”

 

“So you coming to the bar tonight?”

 

Steve didn’t even have to ask which bar, they always hung out at the same one. “Uhh, I don’t know. I’ve got a friend staying at my place.”

 

“Well, bring him along, genius. We promise not to eat him.”

 

Steve smiled. If anyone was the predator, it was Christian. “Let me ask.”

 

He set down the phone, still hearing Jensen’s voice, “Ask? Who is it, your wife?”

 

Walking back in the kitchen, he found Christian at the table with the empty cup in his hands, unable for whatever reason to get more for himself. At Steve’s approach, Christian turned wide, vulnerable eyes up at him.

 

“Hey, do you feel like going out tonight? Meeting those friends I told you about?”

 

Christian had looked apprehensive from the second the phone had rung and it didn’t change when Steve asked him about going  
out. He was about to tell the man to forget he’d said anything, when Christian spoke.

 

“Yeah, I’d like to go. You know, get out. I can’t hide away forever.”

 

“It’s ok if you don’t want to go. It won’t be forever, your memory is coming back a little every day. It’s probably too soon…”

 

“I want to,” Christian interrupted. “I mean, unless you don’t want me to…”

 

Steve resisted the urge to growl and shake the man. Of course, Christian would turn it around and make it seem like Steve was suddenly embarrassed of him.

 

“Of course, I still want you to meet them. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable when you do and you’ve been…shaken up all day.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Steve decided not to argue the point. “Ok, I’ll tell Jensen we’ll be there.”

 

He walked back and picked up the phone. “Jensen?

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Ok, we’ll be there.”

 

“Good, see you then.”

 

Hanging up the phone, Steve went to retrieve Christian from the kitchen. He knew the man had stayed there to give him privacy for his phone call, not that he had needed it. Seeing the man still at the table, Steve knew that whatever good feelings the music session had engendered were gone after their little conversation about going out.

 

“I’m guessing I didn’t have a wallet on me, did I?” Christian’s voice seemed resigned but there was just that touch of hope there that made Steve not want to answer.

 

“No, you didn’t.”

 

“So I don’t have any money?”

 

Steve moved forward to put his hand on the man’s shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry about that.”

 

Christian didn’t look up as he spoke again. “You’re being so nice to me, why are you being so nice?”

 

“Because you need it. Really, it’s not a big deal.”

 

Great, Steve thought, another thing for Christian to be worried over. Christian obviously didn’t like having to lean on other people, or so Steve would guess from his eagerness to help do chores. So he searched his brain to find something besides the guitar that would put Christian in a better mood to go out.

 

“You wanna go for another walk?”

 

Obediently Christian stood from the table, not exactly the joyful response that Steve was hoping for.

 

“Did you want some more water?”

 

“Please.”

 

Christian drank at least half the water right then and carried the cup outside the porch with them. Steve thought that the man was going to take it on the walk, but at the last second, Christian left it on the railing. Neither of them had put on shoes and instead, they walked in the water, the waves tickling their ankles.

 

Eventually Christian spoke. “So who’s Jensen?”

 

“Another musician. He moved here from Texas.”

 

Christian nodded absently, but Steve was just happy to have conversation, to have a connection to the other man, however tenuous. “There should be some other guys there too.”

 

The silence stretched just a little too long then. Steve had never really been bothered by silences before, never felt the need to break them like he did now. He knew that Christian was upset, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to get the man to open up about it.

 

“Maybe getting out of the house will be good. Maybe there will be something there that’ll boost your memory.”

 

Christian’s face turned to look at him. “Don’t you think it’s weird that so far the only memories that I’ve recovered are from my childhood? What if I’m trying not to remember things after that? Trying not to remember how I got these scars?”

 

“I have thought of that, but I think you need to remember. Whatever it is, I don’t think that you can live with it festering in your subconscious.”

 

“But what if…what if you don’t…?”

 

“What if I don’t like you once I know?”

 

Miserably Christian nodded, ducking his head to watch the water swirl around their feet.

 

Steve grabbed Christian’s hand, pulling the man around to face him. “I’m not going to turn away from you, Christian. There is a story there and maybe it’s not a pretty one and maybe you’re not entirely blameless, but…I have gotten to know an interesting, nice, good man. Maybe this is your chance to overcome your past, but you can’t overcome it if you don’t know it.”

 

Christian nodded but was still obviously upset. So Steve tried again. “Come on, this experience hasn’t been totally awful, right? I mean, you got to know me, and learn the guitar…”

 

A tiny, beautiful smile started to break through on Christian’s face and Steve had to pull the man into a tight hug. “It’ll be ok,” Steve whispered into the Christian’s ear.

 

“It hasn’t been totally awful,” Christian whispered back but Steve could hear the words that neither of them said, words that would convey how fearful they both were that it would end.

 

They parted and continued on their walk. Christian seemed to be in better spirits after that. It seemed almost a decision on Christian’s part that he not mope any more.

 

“So will there be other people you know there tonight?”

 

“Yeah, a bunch of us normally hang out at this bar called the Kingpin, whoever can make it will show up.”

 

“And they’re all musicians?”

 

“No, not all, we’ve just picked up people as time goes by. Jared will probably be there. He’s Jensen’s boyfriend, I guess you’d say, and that boy couldn’t carry a tune to save his life.”

 

Christian’s low, raspy chuckle at that comment was the sweetest music to Steve’s ears. Too bad Christian ruined it by speaking again.

 

“Are you gonna tell them about me?”

 

Steve frowned. What was the point of lying, but at the same time, the truth was crazy. And Christian’s face was giving nothing away of which answer was the correct one.

 

“It’s whatever you want. You can just be a friend visiting. You could make up something or you could just avoid those kinda questions, or we could tell them the whole story?”

 

Christian just nodded to himself at Steve’s words.

 

“Preference?” Steve prompted.

 

“I don’t know. I guess, I’ll just see when I get there.”

 

They walked for a moment in silence and just before it crossed that threshold into awkward, Christian spoke again.

 

“If you could vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

 

Steve’s face broke into a big grin. He had a feeling he was going to like this conversation much better. Christian was obviously trying to lift their spirits.

 

“Well, I love beach vacations despite that I already live on the beach, but you know where I’ve been thinking about going? The Grand Canyon. I had to go to Vegas to record that last album but I’ve never been.”

 

Christian’s face turned to him with a smirk. “Any place in the world and you pick the Grand Canyon?”

 

“What? It’s supposed to be beautiful.”

 

“Most people would say like an African safari or scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef.”

 

Steve laughed. “I know you don’t remember where you’ve been, but where would you say? Gut reaction?”

 

Christian averted his face before he answered. “I’ve heard the Grand Canyon’s beautiful.”

 

Steve bit his cheeks to keep from tackling Christian into the surf. “Ya know, I’ve heard that too.” He said instead.

 

And then Christian was quickly changing the subject. “Do you scuba dive?”

 

“Nope. I do surf a little…badly.”

 

“Ooh, can I see a demonstration of that?”

 

“No, because knowing you, you’d be amazing at it right from the beginning and I’d feel even more humiliated than I normally do while  
surfing.”

 

Christian chuckled and Steve couldn’t be mad at him for being smug when it was true. “Have you ever been on an African safari?”

 

“That’s a no. It does sound interesting now that you mention it though.”

 

“What’s the weirdest vacation you have been on?”

 

Steve laughed even as he spoke. “Are you channeling an eight year old?”

 

Christian just looked confused which made Steve laugh harder. “Probably the family vacation we took when I was fourteen…”

 

That story took up the walk back to the house. Christian was obviously feeling pretty good by that time as he only grabbed the cup off  
the railing with one hand and didn’t clutch it or bring it to his chest.

 

“Shower, dinner, bar?” Steve suggested.

 

Christian paused in his gulping of the water to nod.

 

“More water?”

 

Another nod. Steve got himself a cup of water after he refilled Christian’s, and then refilled it again because Christian drank it all.

 

“You wanna shower first?” Christian offered.

 

“Actually, that’d be great, then I can get started on dinner.”

 

Christian nodded and they made their way to the living room. “Remote, CD’s, books,” Steve waved a hand encompassing the things with which Christian could amuse himself with for ten minutes.

 

“Got it.”

 

Steve didn’t wait to see which option Christian chose. He bounded up the stairs. This time he didn’t even get clean clothes prior to getting in the shower. He showered quickly, feeling excited for Christian to meet his friends.

 

Heading into his room in just a towel, he got redressed in clean boxers but the same shorts. He would change into jeans to go out later but for now he didn’t want to be too hot.

 

Then he was headed back down the stairs. Christian had the book open and the CD playing again, but really he was staring at the sheet music as the song played.

 

“Shower’s all yours.” Steve said.

 

Christian turned off the stereo and put the book and the papers back down on the coffee table before climbing the stairs himself.

 

Steve was just getting out some ingredients for dinner when he realized he hadn’t gotten out any fresh boxers for Christian. He was getting so used to the other man, he didn’t think about it. But Christian might have some sort of weird problem with searching through Steve’s things and might come downstairs in just a towel, so Steve headed back upstairs. He really couldn’t handle any more teasing.

 

Steve was just about to knock on the bathroom door when the sounds from within registered. Christian was singing. Christian was singing “One Thing”.

 

“But you and I both kno-ow…that at the end of the day or even…”

 

Christian was good. The man’s raspy speaking voice gave way to a clear, powerful, emotive singing voice totally unlike Steve’s own. It was an entirely different song when Christian sang it. The desperation, love, and longing in his voice were so compelling it stopped Steve in his tracks. He stood at the door just listening.

 

The sound stopped and then so did the shower. Steve didn’t know what to do, if he knocked now, Christian would probably answer in nothing…

 

Steve hesitated so long that the door opened before he had decided what to do, revealing Christian in a towel, his skin damp, his hair wet and hanging in tendrils.

 

“Uuhh,” Steve started, inarticulately. He shoved the boxers forward. “I forgot to get you clean boxers.”

 

Christian took them casually, seeming not at all put off by the way that Steve knew he was staring at the other man.

 

“We’ll put on something decent after dinner for the bar.”

 

“Ok.”

 

Steve pivoted and ran back downstairs. He hurriedly threw something together, so it wouldn’t look like he had accomplished nothing while Christian was showering.

 

It was only a moment before Christian was in the kitchen watching Steve, though. Steve didn’t turn as Christian took his regular seat  
at the table. There was nothing really that the other man could help with.

 

“So this bar…?”

 

“It’s just a hole in the wall place, really. They have pool and darts though.”

 

“You ever play a show there?”

 

“No, sometimes we just pick up random guitars and jam, depending on who’s there, but I’ve never had an actual gig there.”

 

“You know, I’m starting to feel bad with you doing all the cooking around here. Particularly since I don’t have any money.”

 

“Nonsense. I love to cook.” Steve turned to shoot the other man a grin. It was his turn to change the subject before Christian could feel too bad since they both knew that Christian was in fact dependent on him for the time being. “You know, if at any time tonight, you want  
to come home, tell me. Ok?”

 

“It’ll be fine.”

 

“I know it will be, but…just in case. I see these guys all the time, so we don’t have to stay all night.”

 

Christian just sighed in response. Steve smiled and dished out two plates. They ate mostly in silence, mouths too busy chewing to speak.

 

After they cleaned up, Steve looked at the clock and said, with a mixture of excitement and nerves, “Well, I guess we’d better get dressed to go.”

 

Christian nodded seeming more nervous now that the hour was approaching, clutching the cup again, but Steve decided not to say anything more on it. He was getting the feeling that questioning Christian on this was hurting the man’s pride.

Heading up the stairs to the bedroom they basically now shared, Steve was struck with the idea that they were going to get dressed together to go out. It both made him think of a teenage girl with her best friend or that this was what it would be like if he and Christian were a couple, going out together, sharing friends, their clothes mixed together.

 

He grabbed the man’s original pair of dark jeans and tossed them at Christian, before climbing into a clean pair of his own jeans, seeing Christian put the cup on the bedside table out of the corner of his eye. He gave Christian the belt and tank that the man had originally been wearing as well. Then Steve turned towards his closet.

 

He grabbed a light button up shirt for himself, putting it on without an undershirt per his usual, buttoning it from the bottom haphazardly and leaving most of the top ones undone. But he grabbed a heavier button-up for Christian, something more like what the man had been found in.

 

Christian put on the clothes he was handed without complaint, though he had spent the last two days in Steve’s clothes. He rolled the sleeves up to expose tanned forearms and left enough buttons open at the top that the neck of the tank was visible.

 

Raking his hands through his still damp hair, Steve crouched down to paw through the shoes at the bottom of the closet. Christian didn’t have any shoes so the man was going to have to deal with sandals.

 

Tossing a brown pair of flip flops over, Steve said, “I know these are too big, but they’re all that I’ve really got for you.”

 

Christian slipped them on with a frown, shaking his damp hair out of his face. “I get the feeling that I’m not normally much of a sandal guy.”

 

Steve grinned at that. “I’d have to agree.” He pulled out a pair of Converse sneakers for himself. When he stood up again after slipping the shoes on, Steve found Christian seemingly staring at his bare, exposed chest.

 

Embarrassed and feeling flushed at the attention, Steve turned away to the dresser where he kept a diverse collection of jewelry. And then he had an idea. Searching through the mess for the tribal, turquoise and silver pieces he knew he had, he then grabbed Christian’s wrist, affixing a thick bracelet to it under Christian’s speculative gaze.

 

“Here, wear this.”

 

Christian seemed perplexed by the bracelet now encircling his wrist, before he smiled, this coy, pleased smile that the man tried to hide by ducking his head. And then Steve was putting a watch with a wide leather band on Christian’s left wrist. Finally, Steve put a necklace on the other man, standing behind Christian as he realized what Steve was up to and pulled his hair out of the way.

 

“Why?” Christian asked as Steve stepped back to admire the way the pieces looked with Christian’s tan skin and the blue shirt he was wearing.

 

Steve patted the necklace where it lay on Christian’s chest, the metal already heated by the man’s skin. “It looks good, suits you.”

 

Christian searched his eyes, but Christian’s own eyes showed Steve how touched the man was by Steve’s simple gesture. It made Steve wonder how many presents that Christian had received in his forgotten past.

 

Steve stepped back. He didn’t want to make too big a deal of the gift and embarrass the other man, but as he turned back towards the jewelry pile, he could see Christian in the mirror, touching the necklace with his own fingers, the smile still on his face.

 

Picking out two necklaces, a watch and three bracelets to wear himself, Steve declared them ready to take on the town, ignoring Christian’s gaze still on his chest made seemingly even more fascinating by the jewelry.

 

“You’re a dork,” Christian said in reply, dropping his hand from the necklace to grab the cup and head down the stairs.

 

Christian waited in the living room, putting down the cup on the coffee table as he allowed Steve to walk ahead. This was the first time that Christian would go out the front door. Steve grabbed his keys from the hall table and then they were climbing into his clunker of a car.

 

Christian put on his seatbelt and then sat there basically vibrating in anticipation, fear and excitement seemingly warring inside. He kept looking over at Steve as they drove, Steve thought for comfort. The most telling thing that Christian was uncomfortable though was the silence, so Steve turned the radio on a low volume.

 

Christian was silent right up until Steve parked the car at the bar.

 

“I don’t think that I want to tell them.” Christian’s words came out in such a rush that it took Steve a second to process what the man had said. Christian turned in his seat to look at Steve straight on, gauging his reaction.

 

“Whatever you want.”

 

“I’ll just deflect any questions,” Christian continued, nodding about the plan to himself.

 

“Ok, I’ll just say you’re a friend who came to visit.”

 

“Ok,” Christian agreed still nodding. And then with a deep breath, the man opened the door and got out, leaving Steve hurrying to unfasten his seatbelt and follow.

 

Steve rounded the car and jogged to catch up. Christian let Steve enter the bar first to search out his friends.

 

They were easy to find at a table at the back near the pool tables, easy particularly because Jared the giant was standing beside the table, doling out the beers he had gotten. Steve caught Christian’s eye as he waved back and then they made their way over, Steve’s attention turning away from Christian for perhaps the first time.

 

There were six guys already there, which surprised Steve because he hadn’t thought that he and Christian were so late that everyone would already be there. First there were hugs, Jensen standing to be the first one to wrap his arms around Steve.

 

Steve hugged Jensen and then introduced Christian before any other hugs, reaching out a hand to Christian’s shoulder as he spoke.

 

“Guys, this is my friend Christian. He’s gonna be staying with me for a little while.”

 

There was a round of murmured hellos that Steve barely heard as he was attacked by one of Jared’s bear hugs. When Jared turned his attack on Christian, Steve’s heart leapt into his throat, momentarily panicked that Christian would strike out in defense of himself. But Christian just went with it; even though his face was startled he had apparently decided that these people weren’t a threat.

 

Jared introduced himself and then draped himself over Jensen’s back as the smaller man introduced himself to the newcomer with a firm handshake. Steve waved a hand at the other guys while keeping an eye on Christian’s interactions. So far so good as Christian was just smiling big and wide and easy.

 

Jared had taken over the introductions, messing up Chad’s hair with a huge hand as he introduced his best friend and then Tom Welling, Mike Rosenbaum, and David Boreanaz, all while not releasing his hold on his boyfriend. Steve took the opportunity then to usher Christian away to the bar.

 

“So?” Steve queried.

 

“Dude, it’s been five seconds, but they seem fine. I’m fine.”

 

Chastened, Steve nodded. He just couldn’t help himself, he had this weird desire to wrap Christian up in his arms and keep him safe. He was freaking out more than Christian at this point and the only reason that Steve could think of for Christian’s easy-going attitude was that it was like a role. These people didn’t know about Christian’s struggles, about the scars and the vulnerability that Christian showed, Christian could hide it all.

 

“What do you want to drink?” Steve asked almost as a peace offering.

 

“Just a beer.”

 

And then another worry occurred to Steve. “Ok, just take it slow. You probably shouldn’t be having any alcohol with that knot on the back of your head…”

 

Christian’s hand smoothed down Steve’s forearm and looked at him with dark serious eyes. “I appreciate the concern, Steve.”

 

Steve heard the gratefulness as well as the unspoken ‘but cut it out’ loud and clear. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slow, Steve nodded, “Ok.” His hand automatically reached out to smooth down Christian’s back as the man turned towards the bar.

 

Stepping up to the bar himself, Steve ordered two Retro Red beers. The beer selection was one of the many reasons that they liked coming to this bar. He didn’t even notice that he and Christian’s shoulders were practically touching as they waited for their order. Then they were headed back into the fray with their liquid reinforcements.

 

Jensen immediately started in asking Steve about the tour, diverting Steve’s attention from Christian again. But he still noticed that Christian seemed to be chatting fine with David whom he was sitting beside. And then Jared pulled up a chair behind and in the middle of them, unable to resist the lure of the entertainment of a new person. Steve also noticed that when Christian’s hands weren’t occupied with the beer bottle, he was spinning the turquoise bracelet around his right wrist. The realization brought a smile to Steve’s face.

 

Tom and Mike were eventually sent for another round and then Jensen was begging Steve to play a song from his new album.

 

“No, that’s all I’ve been doing for months.”

 

Jensen huffed. “It’s one song, come on.”

 

And unfortunately, Jared took up the begging, his puppy-like demeanor inordinately well-suited to the task. Hoping for some help, Steve turned to Christian but caught the man just smirking at him as Christian took a swig from his beer. Oh no, Steve thought, there would be none of that.

 

“Fine, but I’m going to need my friend here to accompany me.”

 

And just like that the smirk disappeared from Christian’s face to be replaced by a look of utter horror, wide disbelieving eyes stared up as his mouth fell open. “W-what?” he coughed.

 

It was Steve’s turn to smile sadistically. “Come on. I’ll play and you sing. You obviously know the words. I heard you singing earlier and you were great.”

 

The bar was lit just well enough for Steve to clearly see the red blush that crept up Christian’s neck into his cheeks as he continued to stare, wide-eyed at Steve.

 

Not to be deterred, Steve grabbed Christian’s arm, his smile changing to hopefully reassuring. “Please?”

 

That did it. Apparently Christian had as little ability to refuse Steve as Steve had to refuse Christian. Christian scowled, but stood as requested. There were a couple of guitars kept in a back corner of the bar and Steve went to grab one. He then settled in a chair at the table next to the one they had been sitting at, knowing that the other people in the bar were watching as well. Steve pulled out the chair next to him and looked up at Christian pleadingly until the other man sat as well, his face still set in an overdone scowl.

 

“I cannot believe you’re doing this to me. Where’s all that how are you doing? Are you too scared to go out in public?” Christian affected a high-pitched, simpering tone as he imitated Steve’s earlier concern. It just made Steve laugh out loud. If Christian was still joking, he wasn’t on the edge of a major freak out.

 

Steve set about tuning the other guitar. “Please, you said you were fine. I’ll sing with you, you big baby.”

 

That comment transformed the scowl into a pout. Steve didn’t mention how Christian’s expression was just proving his point. “Ready?” he asked instead.

 

“As I’ll ever be.”

 

Christian started out a little quiet, but quickly Steve went silent, Christian’s voice rising out clearly to sing the rest of the song. They finished to a round of applause and the stunned faces of Steve’s friends.

 

The biggest grin broke out over Steve’s face and a feeling of surprised accomplishment. They had sounded great. They had sounded so great they could be their own band.

 

His thoughts getting carried away, Steve turned to see a similar look of surprise, and achievement, awe and embarrassment on Christian’s face. Christian then turned his face away from their crowd as if he could feel Steve’s eyes on him and blue eyes locked with blue eyes. It was like Steve could see everything in Christian’s gaze, a future of making music just like this and going home to sleep with their bodies intertwined like they had been last night. And he could swear that he saw that same want, that same longing in Christian’s eyes.

 

Steve turned his head away, the feeling too intense, too confusing. Standing Steve leaned down to pat Christian’s shoulder and whisper, “Great job,” in the other man’s ear.

 

Putting the guitar back where he got it while Christian went back to sit next to David, Steve only swung by their table long enough to ask, “Who needs another beer?” Then he was heading away to the bar, leaving Christian staring after him as David patted Christian’s back. Christian was twirling the bracelet again.

 

Steve placed his order and leaned his elbows on the bar, trying not to turn back around and stare some more at Christian as he waited. He wasn’t alone for long though.

 

Jensen slid in right beside him, leaning his back on the bar. “He’s good. Y’all sounded great together.”

 

Steve’s smile was tight. He didn’t know what to say to that, felt reluctant to admit how good he thought Christian, they had been as if admitting that would be to admit all the other things that were in his heart. But Jensen was turning his body, rolling over closer to Steve to lean over his elbows on the bar like Steve was doing.

 

“And he’s definitely hot.”

 

“We’re not together.”

 

“Well, you obviously want to be, Steve. You’ve barely been able to take your eyes off of him all night, nor he you. And I know that’s your jewelry he’s wearing that he can’t keep his hands off of.”

 

Steve could feel his face flushing at Jensen’s pronouncement. Tightly he shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

 

Jensen scoffed. “It doesn’t look complicated. Maybe you just need to take a chance on it?”

 

Steve was saved from answering by the bartender plopping down the last of the beers that Steve had ordered.

 

“I’ll help you carry them,” Jensen offered.

 

Steve couldn’t help catching Christian’s eye as he set another beer in front of the man. Christian stared up at him with concern. He was concerned for Steve despite everything that had happened to him. What could Steve do? He offered a smile to placate the other man, but resisted the urge to reach out and smooth the man’s hair back.

 

He couldn’t resist watching as Christian’s hand left the bracelet to take the new bottle or how Christian’s lips looked around said bottle or how Christian tipped his neck back, baring his throat as he…

 

Oh God, this has got to stop, Steve thought. But Christian was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then smiling that little boy smile at him and Steve knew that he wasn’t going to stop wanting Christian. Should he even be fighting it?

 

Christian didn’t seem like a man who didn’t know what he wanted, who couldn’t make his own decisions. Today Christian had seemed like a man scared of losing Steve’s affection not like a man scared of being abandoned to the big bad world. Would it really be taking advantage when they both seemed to want it so much?

 

They chatted a while more, but neither Steve nor Christian had anything else to drink and Steve eventually decided to call it an early night. Christian didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he recognized the gleam of anticipation in Steve’s eye.

Back in the car, Christian was still smiling, still feeling the energy of being with a bunch of people and having a good time.

 

“So they were fine?”

 

Christian chuckled again at Steve’s concern. “Ye-es. They were regular guys who didn’t do a single thing to make me feel uncomfortable. You on the other hand…”

 

Steve laughed. “You loved it and you know it.”

 

The smile on Christian’s face as Steve glanced over told him that the other man had indeed loved it. They fell into a comfortable silence then for the rest of the trip back to the house, the kind of silence that had Steve thinking about reaching out to grip Christian’s hand.

 

Parking again, they both hopped out and headed to the front door. Christian waited behind him as Steve unlocked the door, too close behind him, close enough that Steve could feel the heat from the other man’s body through his thin shirt. He practically fell in the door when it opened because he wasn’t paying attention.

 

Christian picked up the cup from where he had left it in the living room and they headed to the kitchen, Steve grabbing a cup of water for himself. Both men spent a minute gulping the water down.

 

“Uh, I can’t believe how tired I am already. It’s amazing how quickly you get used to doing nothing,” Steve commented.

 

Christian grinned and shook his head at the other man. “Son, you need to get out more.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever, son.” He knocked their shoulders together as he led the way upstairs, taking off most of his jewelry on the way and throwing it at the pile on the dresser. He turned as the watch Christian had been wearing landed there.

 

“No,” Steve said, grabbing Christian’s wrist over the bracelet. “They’re yours.”

 

Christian’s face darkened with self-consciousness, ducking his head even as he shook it, “No. I can’t.”

 

Of its own volition, Steve’s other hand reached out to cup Christian’s jaw, his fingers sliding back into that dark mass of hair as he tilted Christian’s face back up so their eyes could meet.

 

And Christian must have seen Steve’s intentions then, because he pressed their bodies closer until their lips were but a hair’s breadth apart when he spoke, his hot, moist breath puffing out to tease Steve. “Can I…?”

 

“God, yes,” Steve groaned. Christian surged forward, claiming his lips before the words had completely left his mouth.

 

It was a heady sensation, to finally get what he had wanted so much. Christian kissed like he had been dying for it, like he had been waiting to kiss Steve his whole life. It was nothing like the hesitant, shy caress of the other night and that was the only reason that Steve was glad that they had waited.

 

Steve felt crushed, consumed, Christian’s arms were tight around him, Christian’s tongue delved into his mouth, first teasingly and then deeply, he felt like he was spinning…

 

Steve realized they had indeed been spinning when his back came into abrupt contact with the wall next to the dresser that he had been standing in front of. But he had no time to think because then Christian was pressing inexorably closer, pressing Steve into the wall as Steve’s arms went around Christian’s neck, just trying to hold on.

 

Christian’s hands slid down Steve’s sides to grip his hips, pulling his hips away from the wall to grind their jean clad crotches together hard, the friction both tantalizing and painfully rough. That’s when Steve knew that he had to slow things down. If Christian kept that up, he’d come in his pants and he had waited too long for this. Pulling his arms back, his hands slid again into thick brown hair which he gripped, pulling Christian’s lips away.

 

Steve pulled Christian’s head back by his hair, transferring his own lips to the thick corded muscle that stood out there, straining against the hold that Steve had on him, Christian’s hands clenching around Steve’s hips. Steve took his time, slowing the pace as he bit lightly and worried at that muscle and then licked a strip up to Christian’s ear.

 

He relaxed his grip on Christian’s hair, letting it fall back forward then as he sucked the lobe into his mouth, laving it thoroughly. With a hand on the back of Christian’s head and his other arm around Christian’s waist, Steve kissed over Christian’s stubbled cheek and let their lips meet again, tongues meeting in first one mouth and then the other.

 

He pulled his face away as he felt Christian’s hands starting to unbutton his shirt. Resting his face against Christian’s cheek, Steve laughed when Christian cursed, the buttons frustrating him. Taking over the unbuttoning himself, Steve pressed a light kiss to Christian’s bruised cheek before pulling back to look down at the shirt.

 

As soon as the last button came free, Christian’s hands were there, smoothing down Steve’s chest and telling Steve without words that he wasn’t the only one frustrated by looking and not touching. It was a struggle for a moment as Steve tried to unbutton Christian’s shirt while Christian’s hands wanted to keep stroking soft skin.

 

Eventually the lure of skin to skin contact got through to Christian and he let Steve’s hands unbutton his shirt, amusing himself by pressing sweet kisses to Steve’s face as Steve worked. Steve didn’t stop at the shirt. After pushing the shirt off Christian’s shoulders, Christian stripped off his tank while Steve’s hands went immediately to the belt buckle.

 

Christian’s pants were barely down his thighs before he was reaching for Steve’s jeans, just shimmying his own pants the rest of the way off in an enticing wiggle. As Steve’s pants slid to the floor though so did Christian, engulfing Steve’s erection in the wet warmth of his mouth practically before his knees hit the ground.

 

“Fuck,” Steve hissed, his hand immediately going to the back of Christian’s head with the vague notion to keep Christian from choking himself with his enthusiasm. Despite the fucking incredible suction, he kept his eyes open to watch as Christian’s head bobbed, and he listened as needy, wet sounds tumbled out. Christian momentarily lifted the thick fringe of his lashes to look up at Steve with dark, lustful, pleading eyes as his tongue swirled around the head of Steve’s cock.

 

“God, stop,” Steve begged, pulling on Christian’s hair and shoulders to get the man to stand up again. As soon as Christian did Steve’s arms were wrapped tight, pressing them together bodily as close as he could make them, his tongue diving into Christian’s mouth to scour every inch.

 

He pulled back, one hand again moving to the back of Christian’s head, entangled in the man’s hair as he said, “It can’t end that quick, not after all your teasing.”

 

Christian licked his lips, smile widening as he must have noticed Steve’s eyes following the movement. His voice was harsh and needy, his hands absently petting Steve’s chest as he spoke, “I’m not teasing when I say that I want your dick buried in my ass to the hilt.”

 

The bed behind him, Christian sat down on the side and then slid up to the pillows, Steve following on his knees, not even losing his grip on Christian’s hair. Once settled, Steve bit lightly on the bow of Christian’s top lip and then sucked the lower one into his mouth as he let his body lay full on the other man’s, his weight only slightly off to the side.

 

His lips slid down Christian’s throat to his collarbone and then further to a dusky, already pointed nipple. Teasing them both, Steve’s tongue slid around the outside a few times before he dragged the flat of it over the tight bud.

 

“Fuck, yes…” was a better response than he had hoped for and Christian undulated underneath him. Sucking on the nipple got him an even better response.

 

“Harder, harder,” Christian moaned until Steve lightly bit it, worrying it gently to the sounds of Christian’s pants for breath and the rhythm of the hips rocking up against him.

 

Steve made his way to the other side, the hand not underneath Christian’s head coming up to continue to tease the nipple his mouth had just abandoned. He vowed to explore this sensitivity another time.

 

Then it was Christian’s hands in his hair, dragging him back up for another kiss and then rolling him smoothly onto his back. The hand that seemed permanently entangled in dark hair was pressed back to the pillows and then so was Steve’s other hand. Christian ran his tongue along the outline of the Cherokee feathers.

 

Steve gasped, unaware that the inside of his biceps were seemingly hardwired to his dick. And then Christian started sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth, harder and harder, hard enough to leave a mark and Steve could only writhe at the feel of it.

 

“Christ,” he said and he would swear that he felt Christian smile before there were teeth running gently over the mark Steve knew would come later. Rubbing himself against the weight above him, his cock slid over the indentation between Christian’s thigh and torso.

 

Christian moved down to his own nipple, not nearly as sensitive as Christian but the man’s mouth still felt amazing as it licked and sucked and then moved down further still. Christian mouthed wetly over his ribs, licked that agile tongue into his belly button, his teeth pulled on the light trail of hair underneath.

 

Pausing Christian nuzzled at the base of Steve’s dick, making Steve acutely aware that there was nothing but air on his heated length.

 

“God, I love how you taste.” It was a softly moaned confession before Christian’s mouth was sliding down his cock again. Steve barely had time to register the bliss of it before Christian was sliding back up, the mouth on his neck now.

 

“Fuck, where are the condoms?”

 

Steve’s hand sliding back into place in Christian’s hair, Steve rolled them over. Christian’s muscular thighs immediately parted, his knees drawing up to cradle Steve there. With his free hand, Steve grabbed the lube and condoms from the drawer in the bedside table. With one hand, Steve managed to open the bottle of lube and coat his fingers, not easy but Steve could do it when he was properly motivated,  
like, oh, now.

 

His one hand still cradled Christian’s head as his other moved between Christian’s spread thighs. Steve watched Christian’s face closely as one finger pressed inside, watched as Christian’s head tipped back, his neck arching in pleasure and yet Christian’s eyes seemed determined to stay locked with Steve’s own.

 

Adding another finger, Steve saw those eyes finally close, a dark curtain of lashes falling on Christian’s cheeks. White teeth appeared as Christian bit down hard on his bottom lip but couldn’t completely stifle the helpless, moans and groans. Christian’s whole body undulated gracefully, rocking to the movement of Steve’s fingers moving in and out of the tight hole.

 

Angling the two fingers, Steve couldn’t resist searching out Christian’s prostate, just to hear the man’s keening cry as the lip was released.

 

“Now, now, fuck now,” Christian was babbling.

 

“How…” Steve didn’t even need to finish the question as Christian was already turning onto his stomach, positioning himself on his knees, his ass pressed back and eager for Steve’s cock.

 

Steve wasted no more time, quickly ripping open the foil packet and sliding the condom on. With one swipe of lube over the condom, Steve was pressing his dick into the tight hole.

 

“Unngh,” the needy cry came from Christian’s lips as Steve’s cock was finally stretching and filling Christian’s body. Christian only spread his knees wider and dropped to his elbows as Steve bottomed out.

 

It was Steve who needed a second to catch his breath at the overwhelming feeling of being so deep inside, so tightly held. He dropped his chest to rest on that muscular back, his lips mouthing wetly over Christian’s shoulder as he slowly withdrew.

 

Slowly Steve thrust back inside, then harder and faster, little helpless noises escaping Christian with every thrust. Christian turned his head to the side, his face now visible to Steve as his cheek rested on his folded forearms.

 

Steve had to lean down and press a kiss to that bruised cheek again. Then Steve was kneeling back, gripping both of Christian’s hips in his wide palms and slamming in as hard and deep as possible, over and over again until he could feel the pressure building, building until it overflowed its bank, his hips stuttering, grinding his cock in impossibly deeper.

 

For a second he rested again on Christian’s back, the man not even complaining though his cock had to be by that point. Steve kept one hand on the man’s back to keep Christian there as he pulled out, pulling off the condom to throw in the trashcan underneath the bedside table.

 

He turned back to see Christian, his ass still in the air on his knees, his chest resting on the bed. And then Steve caught sight of the gaping, reddened hole that his cock had just filled. He had to run his thumb over the outer ring of it even as Christian shuddered in frustrated need beneath him.

 

“Steve,” Christian whined.

 

“I’ll take care of you,” Steve replied.

 

Then he turned Christian onto his back, shoving Christian’s knees back up and away, his fingers slipped back into that still tight opening, finding that spot of pleasure and watching as his massage of it made Christian’s purple cock twitch against his stomach.

 

Steve swallowed Christian’s cock down just as enthusiastically as Christian had Steve’s own, sucking hard on the head and rubbing his tongue along the underside even as his fingers played over Christian’s prostate mercilessly.

 

It was only a second before Christian was shouting his release to the ceiling, his body jerking in short movements as cum flooded Steve’s mouth. Swallowing his mouthful, Steve flopped down on the bed next to Christian, both breathing like they’d just run a marathon.

 

Christian was the first to speak a moment later. “You know I didn’t do it to repay you, right?’

 

Steve had to move, prop himself up to see Christian’s face as he answered, “Yeah. If I thought that I wouldn’t have done it.”

 

Steve’s concern melted into happiness as Christian rolled into him, pushing Steve onto his back and curling close. “You’re just so concerned, I wanted to make sure nothing weird was going on in your head.”

 

Steve chuckled and pulled Christian’s closer til the dark head was lying on his shoulder, an arm and leg of Christian’s flung across his body. “Shut up.”

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

Steve woke up some time later due to the sudden chill of Christian moving off him in a hurry. Blinking his eyes as they adjusted to the dark, he finally was able to see Christian standing naked next to the bed.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Did you hear that?”

 

“What? No, it’s nothing, come…”

 

But Christian was already pulling on his boxers. “Get dressed.” It was a growl, an order, a tone of voice that Steve had not heard out of Christian’s mouth before. “I’m going to go check it out.”

 

Then Christian was gone, slinking like a panther out the bedroom door. Steve sat in bed stunned. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t even hear Christian. But in the end, Christian’s paranoid behavior spurred him out of the bed and into his boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt,

 

Looking around the room, there was nothing in it to use as a weapon, big surprise. The baseball bat was still in the guest room even. Still, Steve wasn’t about to let Christian just wander off alone if there actually was a burglar down there.

 

He was just stepping out of the bedroom himself, when there was a sharp blow to his face. Steve dropped to the floor on his side, stunned, trying to figure out what had happened. What had happened became more clear as a man as big as a house grabbed his arm and hauled him off the floor.

 

And the man had a gun…which he pressed to Steve’s head. Steve’s breath stuttered and then quickened in panic and confusion and he didn’t struggle as the man pushed him to walk down the stairs. At the bottom, Steve’s arm was released so that the man could switch on the lights, but the gun never wavered.

 

Blinking now at the light, Steve tried to make out the scene before him. Christian was standing in his boxers surrounded by men dressed in black and his lips was split open again, his hair wild. From fighting. God, what was going on, Steve wondered.

 

And then there was a voice to answer his questions. Another man dressed in black entered the room, taller and thinner than the other goons but obviously the one in charge as they all stilled at the man’s deep, commanding voice.

 

“So, the mighty Jason Wood brought down by his boyfriend. You are through right?” The man’s voice was amused as he made a gesture to the man holding Steve and Steve was forced to his knees, the gun now pressed to the back of his head.

 

Steve could only imagine how scared he looked, that fear and horror mirrored in Christian’s eyes as they stared at each other across the room. Without a word, Christian dropped to his knees and put his hands behind his head. The men in black were on him in a second, bringing his arms down one at a time to bind them behind his back with a cincher tie.

 

Christian dropped his gaze to the floor as they did so, obviously angered as Steve could see his lips curl in a snarl. But then Christian was looking back at him, his eyes now pained and resigned, remorseful and ashamed.

 

“It was stupid to stay here, you know that right? I would never have expected it of you. And to use your real name…?’

 

“How do you know it’s my real name?” Christian asked, his voice still practically unrecognizable to Steve it was so hard, so challenging, and dangerous.

 

“As soon as we looked up ‘Christian Kane’ we knew it was you. Does he know?” The man waved indifferently in Steve’s direction. “Does he know that you’re a thief?! A mercenary and an assassin?”

 

“I was never an assassin,” Christian hissed.

 

“Isn’t that what you did in Special Forces? What the US army trained you for?”

 

Christian looked away, panting through his nose like a bull obviously to control his temper. Then he looked the man in the eye. “Let  
him go, Caleb.”

 

“Where’s the detonator, Christian?” Steve could hear the smirk in the man’s voice at using Christian’s real name.

 

“I’ll tell you if you let him go.”

 

“Well, that wouldn’t be very smart. Then we wouldn’t have any recourse when you lead us on a wild goose chase.”

 

Christian struggled and growled, seemingly unfazed when half a dozen guns were trained on him in response. But then he subsided.

 

“Yep, there’s nothing you can do. Guess your boyfriend’s gonna have to go on a little trip with us then.”

Before Steve could even process the words that had been spoken, another man in black had bound his wrists, the plastic tie tight enough to cut into the skin of his wrists. The gun was tucked out of sight as the two men grasped his arms, pulling him up to his feet.

 

Steve twisted, fighting his captor for the first time as he tried to keep an eye on Christian but the men just kept pushing at him to walk before them. It was hard enough to walk without face-planting with two men pushing at him to walk at their pace. Steve sucked in a terrified breath as he walked over the threshold of his house, headed outside.

 

It wasn’t terribly surprising that there was the ubiquitous van parked outside his house. It was white and nondescript as it always was in the movies. One man released his hold on Steve’s arm as he slid the door open and then got in. Inside the van, Steve saw that there were no seats in the van besides the two in the front, perfect for transporting any number of things. The man still holding him got in with him, basically dragging Steve on his knees across the floor in the back before pushing him to sit down against the van’s side. Then Christian was brought in.

 

Christian was even worse off, his ankles had been bound as well and so he was carried outside and then dumped on the floor of the van. Two more men got in after him, dragging Christian up and securing his restrained wrists and ankles to fixtures in the van’s wall and floor.

 

Their captors were treating him like the wounded animal that Steve had first thought Christian was, dangerous and unpredictable, likely to chew off his own foot to get free. But for now at least, Christian seemed calm, almost frighteningly calm considering their circumstances. It was the calm of a man waiting and planning, a man who had been captured before.

 

But Christian also seemed ashamed. He kept his face down, averted from Steve’s gaze, even as he shook his head to get his hair off his face. Both Steve and Christian were flanked on both sides by two of their captors and then Caleb and the driver got in the van. The engine started up and they got started on their way, wherever that might be.

 

Steve was seated Indian style, but Christian was being forced by his bonds to kneel. He made an interesting picture, tied up, restrained, on his knees in nothing but boxers, Christian didn’t look the least bit beaten or hopeless or desperate.

 

Steve’s eyes were drawn to the turquoise necklace that Christian still wore. It lay against his tan, slightly sweaty chest that was thrust forward some by his hands being behind his back just as Steve’s was. But even though the jewelry still tied them together, Steve could literally see Christian pulling away from him.

 

Christian obviously remembered something of his past now or he wouldn’t have been so agitated by the assassin comment. Steve didn’t believe for a second that Christian had deceived him, that he hadn’t had amnesia at any point. Most likely he remembered so that he would be able to defend himself. The mind was funny that way.

 

It was also clear that Christian blamed himself for their current situation, for Steve’s current predicament. But all Steve really needed in that moment was to know that Christian was in this with him, the Christian that he had gotten to know. He couldn’t stand to see that Christian, that vulnerable, fun, sweet man covered by this hard shell, particularly because he feared that Christian was burying that man for good.

 

Steve knew that their situation was desperate, but he was feeling much calmer. It was impossible to sustain that level of fear, but mostly it was because Christian looked calm now. As long as Christian believed that they had a chance, Steve would believe him. But he still wished that Christian would just look at him.

 

The ride was long. Steve had no idea where they were headed but he would guess someplace isolated. That suspicion was confirmed when the van stopped in front of a seemingly nondescript building surrounded by trees.

 

Steve was dragged out first, stood to the side as Christian was presumably unhooked from the van and then carried out. Christian was carried out face down, flat as a board, which Steve thought was a good sign. Surely if Christian were desperate he would at least go limp and let them struggle to carry him, right?

 

Steve thought that maybe he was grasping at straws but really this whole thing was too surreal, his brain could barely even process it enough to be scared at this point. Though Steve knew that that fear would reappear real quick if there were a gun muzzle to his head again.

 

Steve was prompted to walk, following Christian into what was basically a cell, a small room with only one door and no windows or furniture. Christian was simply dropped on his face, but the man didn’t even make a sound of pain or complaint. Christian smoothly rolled to his back and sat up, scooting back on his butt so that he was pressing his back to the nearest wall.

 

Prompted to sit against the opposite wall by the two goons holding his arms, Steve kept his eyes on Christian as the man in black in front of him leaned down into Christian’s face. Steve gasped as light glinted off the knife that the man had pointed at Christian but he was ignored as if he weren’t even there.

 

Steve was riveted as the point of that knife made contact with the skin of Christian’s chest and then was pressed in. Neither the man nor Christian flinched a bit; they seemed to simply stare into each other’s eyes in some sort of Mexican standoff. The knife was drawn diagonally down Christian’s chest, not deep enough to really do damage but definitely more than a scratch. Blood flowed freely from the wound.

 

“You know,” the man with the knife spoke, his voice low and conversational. “I think I’ll let some of the new guys practice their torture techniques on you for a while, just because you have pissed me off. Then, of course, we’ll torture your boyfriend to get the information out of you.”

 

Without a single glance at Steve, the man left closing the door behind him, sealing that tiny room with all the finality of a coffin. All of Steve’s attention was focused on Christian, staring at the other man in a mixture of terrified dread that they were going to die in here and concern for Christian’s fresh wound.

 

But then Christian looked up at him and Steve choked he was so glad for it.

 

“Sshh,” Christian’s voice was low and soothing, comforting despite the absurdity of it. “It’s gonna be ok, Steve. I won’t let them hurt you any more.”

 

Christian was up and moving, waddling on his knees as he moved closer. Finally Steve’s brain caught up and he quickly moved to Christian, instead. Now that Christian was talking to him, looking at him, Steve couldn’t think of any of the questions that he had wanted to ask. So he just followed Christian’s instructions.

 

“Here, bring your arms in front of you like this.” Christian demonstrated bringing his arms underneath his legs and then pulling his legs through. Really, if Steve’s brain were working he would have been able to come up with that one.

 

“Don’t they have like a camera or something watching us?” Steve asked.

 

“Not that I see. This is just a temporary building so they probably don’t have cameras everywhere like they might elsewhere. They’re just assuming that we’re in here contemplating all the horrible things that are going to happen to us so that when they come back, we’ll spill everything.”

 

Christian’s face was frighteningly calm as he talked about them being tortured. Then again, judging by how he reacted to the knife to his chest, it was nothing he hadn’t experienced.

 

“Nothing is so effective as threatening a loved one.” Christian offered.

 

Then, as if they had been talking about the weather, Christian ordered, “Empty your pockets.”

 

“What?”

 

“Do it.”

 

Steve was confused but figured that in fact this was not the time for questions. So he emptied the pockets of the jeans that he had worn the night previous. Steve had a tendency to put strange things in his pockets and so he found a beer bottle cap, hair bands, pieces of paper, a guitar pick, and his pocket knife. Wait, he didn’t remember putting his pocket knife in his jeans.

 

“I did it. Last night, I just needed us to have something and since the knife was yours…I guess I’m a paranoid to the bone.”

 

Steve had to think that Christian’s ability to put his pocket knife into his pocket without Steve noticing was probably a clue to Christian’s past that would have been nice to know last night. Now though, he was just thankful to have it.

 

But Christian was taking it, cutting his wrist bonds and then his ankle ones. Steve held out his hands to be released, but Christian gripped his shoulders instead.

 

“Christian…?”

 

“I was falling for you, you know?” Steve’s heart stopped at the word was, at the fact that Christian would talk about this now, but the words kept coming. “It’s not a coincidence that I had to forget myself to fall in love, forget why I’m not supposed to fall in love, why I can’t get close to people.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to speak then but Christian’s hands were on his face, cupping his cheeks and it felt too much like goodbye. “I’m gonna get you home safe, ok?”

 

And then Christian was moving, leaving Steve there bound still. Steve opened his mouth to shout one thing as Christian jumped up to push the lid out of the vent on the ceiling. “Christian, I need you to come home safe too.”

 

Christian didn’t respond, didn’t look over at Steve, simply stopped his movement for a second, but then he was slithering away, his legs the last thing that Steve saw.

 

Steve felt like sobbing. Now alone, his panic reappeared, growing until it felt like the tiny walls were closing in on him. He moved back against the wall, closing his eyes as he tried to imagine that he was far away from here. With Christian.

 

Christian had warned him, had worried time and time again if Steve would still like him, still want him after they discovered what it was the amnesia was hiding. And Steve did. Nothing had turned out the way that Steve had anticipated. He should be at home right now, by himself, lonely, and instead, he was in some spy thriller. And yet…

 

And yet how could it have been any other way? Steve had fallen for Christian from practically the moment that he had laid eyes on him and Steve wasn’t normally one to believe in love at first sight, only lust at first sight. And that man that he had gotten to know was still in there. He had known that the man was dangerous but it was one thing to know about it in some abstract way and another to be thrust into the middle of it.

 

And he couldn’t hear anything!! Steve had no idea what was going on and it was killing him slowly. Christian could already be dead…Steve’s mind skittered away from that thought both because of what it would mean to his heart and what it would mean to his life, his chance at getting out of here alive.

 

There was a gunshot…then two more and the sound of running, of shouting, and more gunshots…Steve held his breath to hear more, was vibrating with tension when the door opened. The mere action of the door opening scared years off his life as he waited to see who would be behind it.

 

It was Christian, motioning him forward. Now Christian cut the ties restraining Steve and then Christian’s hand was tight around his wrist, dragging him through the building. Steve didn’t have time to look around, didn’t see what it was that Christian had done to get them free, but in the end, Steve decided he really didn’t want to know.

 

They hopped in the van that had brought them here and then Christian was driving fast, far away from here. Startled Steve put on his seatbelt, worried at the speed that Christian was driving but when they hit the interstate, Christian slowed down to a normal speed.

 

For a while, he couldn’t say how long, it was silent in the van, Steve’s mind still reeling, processing their capture and then escape. But then his mouth opened.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“I’m taking you home like I said.”

 

“Is it safe?”

 

Christian nodded stiffly. “It is. Caleb didn’t tell his bosses that he found me because he didn’t tell them that I was lost, that he didn’t have the detonator. Nobody knows you or Christian Kane.”

 

Nobody alive, Steve knew was what Christian meant. But Christian was still speaking. “I’ll just drop you off and disappear, nobody will have to know that I was ever here.”

 

“What? You’re just going to leave?”

 

“Yes, I…”

 

“Stop!”

 

“What?” It was Christian’s turn to be confused.

 

“Stop the car.” When Christian did not immediately comply, Steve opened his door. He was unbuckling his seat belt when the van came to a screeching halt on the shoulder.

 

Steve fell out of the car at the sudden stop, rolling on the grass there. He was just managing to stand again, when he saw Christian stalking around the van towards him, his face a dark, angry cloud.

 

“What are you doing?!”

 

“You’re not just leaving, you asshole!” Steve was screaming now and he imagined his own face was red with anger. “After all this, you can’t just…take off!”

 

“Wha…”

 

Steve flung himself at Christian, clinging to the man up in his arms. At first Christian stiffened as Steve had known he would, but then Christian subsided, letting Steve hug him, allowing that closeness that they had both gotten used to the last couple of days. That was what Steve was counting on to get through to the other man.

 

“You at least owe me an explanation,” Steve whispered.

 

Christian nodded before his hands came up around Steve and hugged him back, one fierce squeeze before Christian was stepping back. “Promise,” Steve couldn’t help asking, couldn’t help being afraid that Christian would try to get out of it some way.

 

“Promise, ok? You’re ridiculous. Get back in the car!”

 

Steve smiled at Christian’s show of annoyance as he climbed back in. And Christian didn’t stop there, he grumbled for at least ten miles before he went silent, saying, “You don’t have the sense God gave a goat, inviting me back into your house…it was stupid to take in a man you didn’t know to begin with…were you dropped on your head as a baby?”

 

But then there was blessed silence, and despite everything it was as comfortable as things between the two men had ever been. Steve trusted Christian. It was no surprise that Steve fell asleep.

 

He woke to Christian’s gentle hands and voice, shaking him awake, “We’re here.”

 

His front door wasn’t locked, but Steve figured that at this point, if his stuff was stolen, he would just consider the whole thing a punishment from God because there was no way that that much crap could happen to him if he didn’t deserve it in some past life.

 

But all his stuff was still there as he padded his way barefoot into the kitchen, shooting Christian a glare behind him if Christian even thought of getting out of coming in.

 

Steve filled two cups with water and put them on the table, taking his usual seat, he sunk into it with a sigh of relief. Then Christian entered the room and took his seat.

 

“What do you want to know?” Christian said petulantly as he picked up his glass and drained it.

 

“How did you get there? How did you get from a little sister braiding your hair to that, whatever it is you do now?”

 

Christian was silent and still and Steve knew that his questions had been direct and harsh, but he just wanted to know, he needed to know everything. He could clearly see that Christian was hurting though, and he had no idea how to take away that pain. Steve did wonder if perhaps this was the first time that Christian had ever discussed his past, just like it had seemingly been years since Christian had used his real name.

 

“I guess there was a reason that I remembered my childhood first, they were good years mostly. My father died when I was a boy and my mother raised my sister and me. We didn’t have a lot and I always worked as much as possible to make sure that my little sister could have enough.”

 

Christian pushed away from the table then, for the first time sitting back in that seat. “I was so stupid.” His tone was harsh and self-deprecating. “Just an idealistic kid who wanted to serve his country, I bought into all that stuff about training for real world success and getting money to send to my family at the same time…but I was too good at it. Too good at taking orders and fighting and…killing.”

 

Christian paused there but Steve didn’t push just let him collect his thoughts. “I joined the Special Forces, was sent on top secret missions all over the world. I did horrible things in the name of my country and I thought it was still all worth it as long as I could send my sister to a good school, but…every time I went home I felt further and further away from them. I didn’t even want them to be near me as if I would somehow taint them with my wrongness. I didn’t have anything in common with them, with normal people any more. I was trapped.”

 

It was a hard admission Steve knew for someone like Christian to admit to not being in control. “I couldn’t get out. I didn’t know how to do anything else. How could a killer walk around normal folk, acting like I don’t have those sights and sounds forever ingrained in my head? That idealistic kid died a horrible death. Special Forces produces two kinds of people, either you become fanatical, defending your country and believing the rhetoric with religious fervor or…or you become me, callous and cynical. You start to believe that killing people is just another job.”

 

“But you got out.”

 

Christian laughed humorlessly. “My team and I got stuck somewhere we weren’t supposed to be. It being a secret mission and all, Uncle Sam wasn’t going to come for us, he just sends a death certificate to your family saying that you were somewhere else when you bit it. I managed to crawl out of there…”

 

Christian’s eyes went distant for a second, seeing God only knew what, but it was obvious that Christian had survivor’s guilt on top of everything else. He didn’t need to say that he was the only one who made it for Steve to know.

 

“After that, the first clients found me.” Christian shrugged, but then leaned forward, looking intently into Steve’s eyes. “But I wasn’t an assassin. Hired muscle, a thief, a mercenary, but I didn’t just kill people, only people who were trying to kill me…” Christian’s voice had turned desperate, desperate for Steve to believe and understand. “I couldn’t do what I did before.”

 

Steve didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say to make this better, to take away everything that Christian had done, everything that had been done to him. “So how’d you end up in my bushes?’

 

Christian smiled, actually smiled at that. “Well, uh, I was on a ship, when those guys, Caleb caught up with me. I had taken the detonator out of a weapon that his boss was very interested in. I swam here, ditched my boots, wallet, and knives along the way.”

 

Steve wondered if Christian often decided to take things like detonators to weapons so that they couldn’t be used, almost as if Christian were making up for things that he had done.

 

“But I never meant to put you in danger, I really didn’t remember…” Christian pleaded.

 

“I know. Is anyone else looking for you?’

 

“Lots of people are looking for me. I figured I might lie low for a little, though. If I don’t steal anything or kill anyone, I won’t be on their grid and this shit has fucked with my head a little.”

 

Steve smiled and extended his hand across the table in offering. “Stay here?”

 

“What? No, Steve you really are stupid. I’m not…”

 

“You are. You are that man that I opened my house to, that I opened my heart to. You said it yourself, you just forgot all the things that  
would normally keep you from doing so.”

 

“But what I’ve done…I did deserve the scars, all of them.”

 

“You’ve let one decision determine the rest of your life. I can see that you don’t want to be that person, that it’s tearing you up. Choose to do something else. I’ll help you.”

 

Christian’s blue eyes shone with tears that hadn’t fallen as he shook his head unable to respond it seemed. Steve stood up and rounded the table, kneeling next to the man like he had done that morning with the pancakes. “Stay with me.”

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

One month later…

 

The excitement was literally humming through the air. It had been a difficult transition, particularly for Christian.

 

Christian had gotten one of his many contacts to make him new ID’s and Steve had persuaded him to keep Christian Kane as his name. They were living together in Steve’s house and they were as comfortable with each other as ever.

 

Still Christian did have plenty of problems adjusting, was still having problems as he tried to find the balance between the man that he had been made into and the man that he had been those few days when he had amnesia. He still wore the turquoise jewelry and Steve thought that it was a sign of Christian creating a new identity, one that he would have more control over.

 

And tonight was an even better sign, a sign that their new life together was going to be just fine. They had a gig tonight. They had formed a band with a couple of other guys and named it Kane. Tonight they were playing live for a crowd in a club in LA.

 

Christian was obviously nervous despite the couple of beers that he had guzzled down already. Moving slowly, Steve wound his arms around the man, Christian, his lover, his partner.

 

“Even if our plans don’t turn out the way we thought they would, you make doing nothing feel so good…” Steve sang the words softly into Christian’s ear and he knew without looking that Christian was wearing a smile. And after the show, Steve would make sure that was all Christian was wearing.


End file.
